A Life Worth Living
by clair beaubien
Summary: A series of stand-alone stories about Vin. Modern day AU. Please read the INTRO. Rated for implied violence. These will be posted out of sequential order because I write them out of sequential order. Mostly Vin & Chris, and lots and lots of angst.
1. INTRO

The Jesse Chronicles are an AU where Vin has a wife. Usually, I hate original characters, especially original female characters who take up a whole lot of the page, but I like Jesse, and not just because I created her. If the prospect of a potentially "Mary Sue" OC doesn't turn you off immediately, you might want to know that Jesse doesn't even figure prominently in all of these stories. Some of them are set before Vin meets her. Even a few after they're married Jesse doesn't make an appearance; she only gets mentioned, if that. I've heard good things. You might want to try them. You might be surprised.


	2. Nightmares

"Vin - I didn't know you were here..."

Vin was standing at the reception window in his doctor's office. He spoke to the older male doctor behind the desk. "Yeah - came to update my referral to Dr. Tomason. You know..." He twirled his finger next to his temple. "...the psychologist."

The doctor sighed. "You don't have to be crazy to see a psychologist Vin..."

"No, but it helps..." Then he shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. I know..."

"You're still getting those nightmares?"

"Like you wouldn't believe...they just get more and more disturbing all the time..."

The doctor opened the door between the waiting room and the treatment area. "I have a few minutes, c'mon back, let's talk."

"...'kay..." Vin followed him down the hallway to his office. They were roughly the same height, but Vin was thinner. They went into the office and the doctor shut the door.

"Have a seat..." The sat on opposite sides of the desk. "How long have you been seeing Dr. Tomason?"

"Six months. My referral ran out and I have to get another one before I go there today..." Vin looked around as he spoke. He liked this office, it was big and uncluttered, with pictures and souvenirs of the Southwest.

"And he hasn't been any help at all?"

Vin gestured in frustration. "Even put together we can't come up with what might be causing these nightmares...they're so bizarre and they change all the time..."

"Like what for instance?" The doctor asked. He looked intently at Vin, who couldn't meet his eyes.

"Well...this is going to sound really stupid...sometimes I dream I'm in the Old West...all the guys are with me, y'know? Chris is still in charge, boss as always. But even then, I'm dreaming that I get shot, or hurt, or I'm always so sick I'm practically dying..."

"Vin - the ATF is a stressful job..."

"I've never been shot." Vin shook his head. "Sometimes I dream and I'm at work with the guys...but it's still the same. And always, always this terrible loneliness, like I've got no one to depend on..." He got a pained look on his face.

"What?"

But Vin was reluctant to say. "Lately I've been dreaming that I've got no family. Mom is always dead, that never changes. But sometimes I dream that I was in a foster home, or an orphanage...lately I've been dreaming that Grandpa...was mean to me... Ain't that weird? Grandpa was never mean to me... after how he took care of me after Mom died... how could I hate him?"

"You dream that you hate your grandfather?" The doctor was surprised.

"Sometimes." Vin nodded. "Sometimes, even in my nightmares I'm getting nightmares...it's almost like - like -" But it was too silly to say.

"Like what?"

"Well..." He dragged it out. "I've had the most ridiculous idea in my head that there's somebody out there, with a word processor or a computer and they're typing all this stuff up about me, and somehow it's channeling into my brain... like somebody writing stories or scripts that get acted out when I'm asleep. It is so weird..."

"Well, you hold on son. Dr. Tomason is the best. You'll get to the bottom of it."

"Lord, I hope so."

Someone knocked on the door behind them, and the nurse came in. She smiled when she saw Vin. "Here's your referral Mr. Tanner...Doctor, Mrs. Strickler cancelled."

"Again." He said. "Thank you." When the nurse was gone, he turned to Vin.

"I'm free, would you like to do lunch?"

"No, thanks. Can't." He checked his watch. "On my way to the shrink now..." Vin stood up and followed the doctor to the door of his office.

"Okay, let me know how it goes."

"I will." Vin said and gave the doctor a quick hug. "Thanks Dad."


	3. Sleeping

It was the middle of the night, probably 2:30 in the morning, and Vin padded quietly into the front room in his thermals, bathrobe and wool socks. He switched on the light next to the stereo and sat on the arm of the upholstered rocking chair to sift through his CD's. He wanted something to listen to that was soft in volume and content, something that might help him fall asleep. Something that would take his mind off - well, off everything. He finally settled on the soundtrack from "Gettysburg". Not an especially quiet choice, but it was all instrumental and he hoped that it would occupy his mind just enough to block out everything else. He turned on the stereo, plugged in the CD, and put on the earphones to settle back into the rocking chair.

His wife came down the hallway to find him. Even though she told him that every time he couldn't sleep he should wake her up, he never did. It'd been nearly two weeks now since the stand-off and Jesse knew it wasn't nightmares. It was that Vin couldn't keep his mind from going over it again and again, trying to find some way to make it happen differently.

She didn't want to startle him; she was as quiet as he had been across the wooden floor. Vin had his eyes closed and it wasn't until Jesse sat on the footstool at his feet and put her hands on his that he knew she was there. He took off the earphones and switched off the stereo.

"I didn't mean to wake you honey..."

"I want you to wake me up when you can't sleep babe. You don't have to go through this alone." She took his hands into hers; she loved the feel of them, the warmth and strength. "I keep telling you that."

"I know honey..." He intertwined their fingers. "But you'd never get any sleep..."

"Babe, you haven't gotten any sleep in over ten days. You can't go on like this." But Vin didn't answer her, just took a deep breath. "I can't believe Chris doesn't say anything, Nathan at least. You look like hell, you know that."

"Chris ain't one for saying...isn't...isn't one for saying things like that. He comes, sits by my desk when everyone else has gone to lunch, pretends he's too tired to go with 'em. We talk, or we don't. He's more of a just being there kinda guy."

"What about Nathan?" She asked. "He's never shy about saying things like that."

"He did, first few days, till that first weekend." Vin smiled, a tired expression. "Chris asked him to back off, that's what JD told me. Said he asked everybody to keep an eye on me though, just to not be obvious. Like Buck or Josiah could ever be subtle. And you can't make me believe that Ezra really needs that much help figuring out our new computer software...what are you smiling at Jess?"

"I was just thinking what it must be like to go from being an only child to having six brothers tripping over themselves to take care of you."

But the smile died from Vin's eyes. "I just wish I hadn't let them down..." He took his hands back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You didn't let them down babe." Jesse told him.

"I cost them time - I could've cost that woman her life. She blames me for her son dying."

"Her son that held her hostage for two days and a night." Jesse reached out and gently tugged Vin's arms until she could take his hands again. "After all she did to protect him and keep him hidden from you. You didn't kill him, even if you'd been the one to take the shot." She emphasized her words. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I did the worst thing I could do - I let it get personal. I let that bastard make me mad." Even now it angered him. "How dare he use his mother as a human shield? How dare he? That poor old woman who mortgaged everything she owns to make his bail time and again, who lied to protect him when the bruises were still fresh on her face." But Vin realized it was happening again. "I should've backed off, I should've realized he was pushing my buttons. But I didn't. I let it get personal."

"You yelled at him Tanner. You called him a sorry-assed sonuvabitch for treating a good woman that way -"

"I got angry." He pulled his hands free again though he wanted to keep them there. Lord, he wanted nothing more at this moment than to lay down in her arms and have her quiet all the guilt and dread he was feeling.

"Babe - look at me Vin." She spoke softly. He'd pulled his hands away because he was trembling now. "What is it really? You weren't reprimanded, either officially or unofficially. And if Chris Larabee didn't yell at you, you know you didn't do anything wrong." But he didn't answer. "What is it?"

"I'm scared." He hadn't meant for that to come out at all. But it was so true.

"Scared of what?" And he wouldn't answer. She leaned forward to put her hands on either side of him on the arms of the rocking chair. "Scared of what?"

"That they won't want me to work with 'em anymore." He said, staring down at his hands in his lap. She looked at him with great disbelief, but it was true. "I ain't - ain't -" Vin was trying not to use that word anymore, and he tried to remember what he was supposed to use in its place. "I - haven't - worked with them very long. I'm afraid Chris'll change his mind and have me transferred. This is the first group of guys I really felt I belonged with."

"I know babe." Jesse remembered how he'd come home each day, with one more remarkable - to him - account of something that had happened that made him feel really a part of the team. It wasn't that he was trying to prove himself to the other six; he was trying to prove something to himself.

"I don't want to lose that." his voice threatened to break. "I don't want them to think they can't depend on me. I don't want to lose them."

"Ohh - babe..." She knelt on the floor in front of the rocker and reached up to take him into her arms. "If they didn't want you with them, they wouldn't be trying so hard to take care of you..." He leaned into her embrace and buried his face in her shoulder. "Babe, is that what you've been worried about all this time? That they would get rid of you?"

"I told myself it didn't matter if I fit in anywhere, that I'd be happier someplace where I didn't want to be friends with anybody. But if they told me that they didn't want me around anymore, I don't think I could take it."

"Of course they want you part of their team babe. Of course they do."

Vin listened to her voice, felt it dissolving the stress he'd put himself through. He never felt so safe and loved as he did in her arms. No matter what happened, at work, in the world, or in his life, he knew that he could go home to rest and heal in her arms. He held onto her as hard as he could

"I love you." She said, feeling him relax in her arms, grateful she'd been able to comfort him. "I love you so much Vin."

Vin felt a weariness come over him that he knew meant he'd finally be able to sleep. "I love you too Jesse."


	4. Polite

"Tanner."

"Vin? It's Lenny down in Records - you guys have the files from that bust last week, don't you? That PI who was running guns?"

"Sure do..." Vin gazed across the office to the break room, liberally filled with bankers boxes of evidence. "Need something?"

"I got a guy on the phone, says he hired the PI to do a missing person for him. Sounds legit, doesn't sound like a suspect. Wanted to know if there's any way of getting copies of any information there might be in his file."

"Oh - well, pass him on to me, and I'll see what I can do for him."

"Okay, thanks Vin." A couple of clicks on the line and Vin heard Lenny say:

"Mr. Carberry? I have Agent Tanner on the line, he'll be glad to help you..."

"Thank you so much." another man said, and when Lenny hung up, Vin spoke.

"Mr. Carberry? I'm Vin Tanner. I don't know that I can help you, not till I get a look at the files, but if you give me some idea what you're looking for, I'll see what I can do..."

"Oh, I understand Mr. Tanner. Whatever you can do, I appreciate. It's been nearly thirty years, I don't hold out much hope... but he told me he was so close to finding her..."

"Her?" Vin asked. He fished in his drawer for a legal pad to write the information down. Carbury, missing person, therty years...

"Oh - it'll sound silly to you, I'm sure..." Mr. Carberry said. "My wife died a few months ago, and..." a heartfelt sigh sounded across the phone lines. "I knew a girl, a long time ago...I was hoping to find her again. We parted under very bad circumstances, and - well, I just want to know how she's doing. And apologize I guess for the way I treated her..."

"And what's her name, sir?"

"Margaret."

Margert Vin wrote down. "And her family name?"

A pause. "I don't know...we - never got that far...I only knew that her name was Margaret and she was taking evening classes at the University, the Main Street Campus..." Vin scratched some more information down.

"Well, sir. I'll see what I can do. Don't know how long it'll take me...if you'd give me a number I can reach you, I'll let you know by the end of the day what I come up with."

"I'd appreciate it very much Mr. Tanner..." and he gave Vin the number he could be reached at for the rest of the day. When Vin hung up, he glanced between the reports on his desk that he still needed to type into the computer - and the mountain of boxes he'd have to search through in the break room. Which would be less painful?

He grabbed his coffee cup and legal pad, and headed for the breakroom.

Chris almost didn't see Vin tucked in behind a stack of boxes as he negotiated his way through the maze to the coffee maker. One bankers box stood open on the conference table, and Vin stared down at a manila folder open in front of him.

"Tampering with evidence?" Chris asked as he walked past Vin to pour himself some more coffee. Vin silently shook his head and Chris looked at what he held in his hand. A picture of his mother.

"Haven't seen that one before." Chris said of the photograph. Vin had shown him the one he carried in his wallet. When Vin didn't answer, Chris lightly tapped his arm. Every once in a while Vin went off to a place all his own. "Sorry - didn't mean to intrude." and headed back to his office.

"Chris." Vin called to him suddenly, as though he'd only just gotten enough air to do it.

"Yeah?" Chris walked back to him, concerned by the tone of his voice. Vin held up the old picture.

"This ain't mine...came outta this file we took from that Barkley guy."

Chris stared at him a moment. "You just happened to find it?"

"No - this guy called. Hired Barkley to find an old girlfriend. Asked if we could copy him any information he might've found. I was reading the file - Barkley was stringing him along, this guy. This doctor - Carberry. His notes say he found out who she was weeks ago, and he was just getting more money out of the guy, out of this Dr. Carberry." Vin looked up from where he was shuffling the papers. "He's got stuff in here about me Chris. This guy, this doctor, is looking for my mother..." Distress and confusion sounded in his voice.

"Vin - -" Chris wanted to tell him not to get his hopes up, but didn't know if that's where Vin's thoughts were taking him. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know...doesn't say in here if Barkley told him about me...I told him my name on the phone, didn't seem to register anything with him...I don't know..."

Chris shoved the overloaded box aside and pulled out a chair to sit at the table. "He might be your father." A statement, and a question.

"Time seems right, says here he met her in September, the year before I was born. About ten months before I was born..." He rubbed his fingers over the picture of his mother. "Wonder where he got this..."

"Vin - what did your Mom ever tell you about your father?" That was something Chris and Vin had never talked about. Vin gave a devious grin.

"Said he was a cowboy...could be...this doctor comes from Texas originally...that's all I remember Mom saying."

"What about your grandfather? He ever say anything?" Chris wanted to be sure they covered every conceivable angle before Vin went and had his heart shredded.

"Oh, I never asked. I had Grandpa, didn't need nobody - anybody - else. I think I figured he was dead too."

"So - what are you going to do?" Chris asked again.

"Gotta tell him she's dead. Oughtta do that much for him..."

"I can do that if you want."

"No, thanks Chris. This got dropped in my lap for a reason, reckon I should ride it out...he's got an office on Losson. Be allright with you I take an early lunch?"

"Yeah, take all the time you need." Chris stood up and grabbed his coffee cup. "You gonna be all right?" he asked.

"Reckon..." Vin seemed to realize what Chris was really asking. "I ain't - I'm not - looking to get a Dad. Don't even know as I'll tell him. Been pushed away by enough people in my life Chris - you know I'm real careful who I let in."

"I know." Chris grinned, thinking of the tussle he'd gone through to get Vin trust him those first few months they'd known each other. "Anything happens - you call me. Okay?" Vin nodded and shuffled the papers back into their folder and slid it back into the box.

"See? I don't need a Dad - I already got you..."

The medical building sat one story high, a yellow brick building with a parking lot bigger than it apparently needed. Only one car was in the lot, and Vin pulled in a few spaces away from it. He took a deep breath and tried to imagine what he might say. His hand shook as he opened his car door. What was he doing? What was he thinking? Should've just let Larabee handle it.

He watched in almost disbelief as his feet carried him across the blacktop, closer and closer to the horror waiting for him inside that little building. What was he going to say? He was so intent on his feet that he was at the building before he realized and nearly got blasted by the door as someone came out.

"Whoa - sorry about that." the man said. "Wasn't looking where I was going... couldn't remember if I locked that inside door or not. You got me just in time - I was on my way out to lunch..." Vin wasn't saying anything and the man looked closer at him. "You're not one of my patients."

"No sir." Vin managed to stammer out. "Are you Dr. Carberry? I'm Agent Tanner - -" He fumbled for his identification. "We talked this morning..." The doctor wasn't as old as Vin had been expecting - he was in his mid fifties, maybe. Sandy brown hair, blue eyes. Just about as tall as Vin, maybe a little taller.

"Ohh - Agent Tanner...you came all the way to my office. This can't be good."

"No sir, I'm sorry." Vin finally had his ID out, but didn't offer it up for inspection.

"Welllllll...come on back inside." Dr. Carberry drawled. "I'll buy you a juice and you can tell what I don't want to hear..." He led the way back into the building, through the waiting room and to his office at the back. "Have a seat Agent..." he waved Vin to a chair with a tired gesture, and turned to a little refrigerator tucked next to a bookcase. "Can I interest you in some pineapple juice?"

Normally, Vin would've said 'no', but his mouth was dry. "Thanks, that'd be nice." and the doctor handed him over a small store bought can of unsweetened pineapple juice, and took one for himself before he settled into the worn upholstered chair behind his desk.

"All right Agent Tanner - let me have the bad news..." he pulled the silver foil tab back and emptied the can into the cup next to his PDR.

"Well..." Vin didn't open his juice, though he flicked at the tab. "I'm sorry sir, the lady you were looking for - she died - about twenty-five years ago." and the doctor let out a long sigh.

"No, so young..." he was honestly grieved. "Any idea how?"

"Umm..." nervously worrying the label with his thumbnail. "She worked nights...at a convenience store...puttin' herself through school." Vin tried not to let his emotions weave into his voice, but it was hard. "A coupla thugs held up the store and shot her." He shook the can of juice for something to do. "She done - did - what they told her, gave 'em the money and such...but..." Giving up on his voice, Vin shrugged.

"Murdered? Dear God...so the Investigator was playing me for a fool, wasn't he? He kept telling me he was close, and he had all this information for quite some time."

"Yessir." Though it wasn't quite true - the circumstances of her death weren't in the file. Vin kept trying to make eye contact. It wasn't working.

"Well, I appreciate you coming to tell me this in person, Mr. Tanner..." his voice dropped to soft and concerned. "I can see that it hasn't been easy on you..."

"Didn't figure it was something to be told over a phone line." Vin shrugged again. This was the part where he stood up, got thanked for his time and effort, walked out the door, and never looked back. He just waited for the slight movement that meant the doctor was ready to stand up and show him out. Instead, that quiet concerned voice asked:

"Is there something else you need to tell me?" Not impatient - understanding. Waiting to be told something he could sense was unpleasant. Vin shook his head, then blinked, then took a breath.

"She had a child." he almost whispered. "A son." He let the implication hang. The doctor stared at him.

"How old?"

Vin's mouth was really dry and he wished he could get his fingers to pull the tab off the can. "Seems he'd be turning thirty this June." and the other man was silent, calculating.

"Dear Lord, what have I done?" and Vin looked at him then. His eyes were closed, and he was shaking his head. "I didn't know." and Vin guessed Dr. Carberry wasn't talking to him. "What happened to him?" and this was directed at Vin. "She must've died when he was four..."

"Five." Vin supplied.

"What happened to him? Did Barkley have an address for him? Would you know where he is now?" He sounded desperate, hopeful.

"I don't know." Vin quickly stammered out. Shoulda let Larabee handle this. "I mean - I don't know what information I can give you sir. I know he was raised by his grandfather, but I don't know if I can give you his address..."

"I'm sorry - of course...I should know about confidentiality." The doctor was obviously disappointed. "My wife and I - we never had children. I never hoped - never dared imagine - that I might have - a son -." Vin could see the thought turning over in his mind, that somehow it lit a fire that'd gone cold in him. "Did he have a good life, with his grandfather? Do you know?"

Vin wanted to answer his question, put his mind at rest, but didn't want to let on too much information that the PI couldn't possibly have gotten. "Seems he had a good life." he said. "Married now."

"Any children?" the hopefulness resurfaced.

"Umm..." flicking again at the juice tab. "They lost a baby, couple months ago...stillborn."

"Oh...I'm so sorry." and for an instant, it sounded like he was talking exactly to Vin. A thought sprang up in the doctor. "Is there anyway - I know you can't give me his name, or any information, but is there any way you could get a message to him? Just - I don't know - just tell him an old friend of his mother's would like to get in touch with him? He doesn't have to, of course. I'm sure he has his own life now - I'd just like to - I don't know -." His shoulders sagged in discouragement. "I don't know."

"I could see about doing that for you sir...is that all the message you'd like me to give him?" Vin was beginning to regret hiding his identity from this man.

"No - I'd like to - ." the doctor shook his head. "I wish I'd known. If I'd known that Margaret was expecting - nothing she said would've made me leave her side. Oh - maybe I would have anyway. I was an idiot in my younger days, Mr. Tanner. I left a good woman - in apparently a difficult situation - because I thought she'd get in the way of my medical career. My precious career...a son...I wish I'd known..."

Vin decided to make a run for it, before he broke down and told this man everything. He set the juice on the desk and pushed himself up out of the chair. "I should be heading back to work sir. I'll see what I can do about getting that message to your son...her son..." he almost tripped over the stupid chair trying to get to the door as soon as he could.

"Well, I do appreciate your trouble Agent Tanner..." the doctor's voice registered mild puzzlement as to why Vin was so upset. "You have my number to give to the young man, and my address here at the office..." he stood up and came around the desk to shake Vin's hand. He seemed to take new stock of Vin as they shook hands, and Vin could not keep eye contact.

"What was her last name?" Dr. Carberry asked suddenly.

"What?" Vin had been hoping to make his escape before that ever came up. But the doctor repeated his question, with quiet, patient concern.

"What was your mother's last name?" and Vin felt as though his heart had dropped clean through the floor.

"Tanner." he breathed out. He felt his face grow hot as his blood pressure hit the roof in fear.

"You're my son." A statement, and a question.

"Don't know."

"Please - look at me..." Dr. Carberry didn't release his hand. Vin shook his head. He couldn't - physically couldn't - lift his head. "Weren't you going to tell me?"

"Don't - didn't - know. I didn't know how you'd - what you'd -." Vin wanted nothing more than to run out of that building and find somewhere to hide and think over everything that was going on right now. "I ain't - won't - don't worry. I don't want anything from you." Vin pushed before he could be pushed away. "I won't bother you...just thought you oughtta know - she's gone." and the doctor - his father - released Vin's hand.

"Maybe we could do lunch sometime?" he asked, and Vin nodded, still trying - and failing - to make eye contact.

"Sure." The doctor - his father? - was just being polite. "Lunch..." Seven more feet and he was out of the office.

"Well, let me give you a couple more numbers, okay? Where you can reach me?" Dr. Carberry sat down at his desk again and Vin could hear - because he couldn't look - numbers being hastily scratched onto a piece of paper. Then the doctor was offering him the folded piece of paper. Vin took it and tried to not just shove it into his jacket pocket.

"Umm - thanks. I'll call...sometime...I have to go - have to get back..."

"Of course - I understand...I appreciate you coming to tell me in person about Margaret...I won't keep you any longer."

And if Vin didn't run out of that building, he sure came close.

Chris ate his lunch at his desk, wanting to be in his office, near a phone, when or if Vin came back or called. The others were gone, and the office was quiet, when he heard the door open and Vin came in. He sank into a chair in front of Chris' desk and let out a long, pent up sigh.

"How'd it go?" Chris asked, deadly serious.

"Don't know."

"Did you tell him?"

"He guessed - ." This still surprised Vin.

"And?"

"Don't know." Before Chris could ask what Vin _did_ know, he pulled the paper out of his pocket and tossed it over to his friend. "Gave me another coupla phone numbers, in case I want t' call him."

"Are you going to?" Chris asked as he opened the half sheet of steno pad. He stared down at the numbers before him.

"Naah - reckon not. He's just bein' polite. Reckon he really doesn't want t' hear from me again. Just polite."

"Polite hunh?" Chris came around the desk to stand behind Vin while he held the paper in front of his eyes. There, written in clear open handwriting, Dr. Carberry had listed:

_office phone_

_office phone private line_

_home phone_

_cell phone_

_car phone_

_fax_

_email at home_

_email at work_

_Instant Message ID_

_free-clinic phone (Thursdays and Saturdays)_

_answering service number_

_beeper number_

_voice pager_

_home address. _

"I'd say this was mighty polite of him..." Chris said. He leaned down close to Vin's ear and whispered. "Congratulations Vin - _you're a son_..."

The End


	5. Bravado

"You can do this Tanner...you been on harder cases than this. In and out, one shot, no problem." Vin psyched himself up as he circled in on his target. "Ain't nothin'. In and out, nobody'll see you." He checked the store ceiling and walls overhead for security cameras, and glanced all ways for potential witnesses.

The scene was clear, he'd hardly even have to break stride. Just swoop in, grab the prize, and be on his way. He could do this. He could. He knew he could.

"I wonder if Larabee puts each new guy on this assignment, or just the stupid ones?" He felt his skin prickle with tension as he neared the site. He checked the instructions again, scribbled on the back of an expired coupon and shook his head. "Just the stupid ones."

Checking his surroundings one last time, Vin took a few decisive strides down the aisle, watching out of the corner of his eye for his quarry to come into view. Then little by little, his steps slowed, more and more until he was stopped dead, faced with more possibilities than he'd ever dreamed existed. He was so flabbergasted he didn't even notice that an innocent bystander had wandered into the area.

"What the hell?" he puzzled out loud.

"You need help?" the woman asked. Her voice startled Vin, he was embarrassed to have been caught. But he knew he needed help. He pushed his instructions at her.

"Which ones are these?" No way he was going to say it out loud.

She read the note. This man was in the store to buy tampons. "Wow, you must really love your wife."

"Not my wife, friend a'mine's wife."

She gave him a searching look up and down. "Gambling debt?"

Vin let out a breath and his shoulders slumped. "Bravado." If he wanted sympathy, he wasn't going to get it.

"Geesh." the woman said as she pulled the correct item off of the shelf. "You know just because it's external, doesn't mean you gotta keep measuring it." She held the box out to him but he didn't take it at first. He stared at her, surprised by her bluntness. She stood not quite as tall as him, with wavy hair that didn't quite make her shoulders, and of a sturdy frame. She offered the box one more time, a little more insistently and Vin finally took it into his hand, holding it like it was poisonous.

"You want me to buy that for you? Make the drop outside?" In an flash, the box was back in her hands and she dropped it into the shopping basket over her arm. "Should we have a code word, or do you think we can get by without one?"

Vin squinted at her, puzzled that she could be so casual about something so - so - intimate. She took pity on his distress and let it go. "You have any other shopping to do? I'm done just as soon as I grab my stash." She indicated more products over her shoulder. No way would Vin hang around while she made her own selection.

"No, I'm done. I only came in for the - well, that's all she - I mean -" He could feel it, his face had to be beet red by now.

"This friend must be important to you." Now she spoke seriously.

"He saved my life." Vin answered just as seriously, then had to joke. "Takes it outta my hide every now and again...I 'preciate your help...thought I could do it. Guess I just ain't as tough as I reckoned."

"No, please. You've brightened up what was an otherwise boring day. I'm Jesse, by the way."

"Vin."

"Well Vin..." She smiled at him. "I can meet you out by the mailbox, by the front door? Shouldn't take more than five minutes, lines look empty today."

"Okay, sure. Thanks." He handed her the money for the - the - them - then walked to the front of the store and kept going outside to wait for her.

M7*M7*M7

It only took the few minutes Jesse said it would. She got the tampons in a separate paper bag, folded over and tucked inside a plastic bag with handles so that Vin wouldn't have to touch the actual box again.

"Vin." She said to herself and laughed. "Like I know him." She saw him again, before he saw her. He stood easily, one thumb tucked into a belt loop of his jeans, watching out over the parking lot of the grocery store. He wasn't nervous now, Jesse could tell. He was taking stock of the people and vehicles in the lot, watching the comings and goings, he seemed to be almost cataloguing the bits and pieces of information as though he might need them later on.

What she noticed most though was the way he looked just standing there, in a long sleeved plain white shirt tucked into faded blue jeans, with well-used work boots on his feet. Jesse found herself saying: "My my my, whose little boy are you?" before she got within ear shot. "Lord, I want one of those."

M7*M7*M7

Vin scanned the parking lot, watching the people and traffic with his eyes, but something else was going on inside his head. No wedding ring he remembered. Mis-matched button on her shirt. Pretty eyes. Shoe lace was busted on one sneaker, she had to tie it in the second hole from the top...no wedding ring. He sensed someone approaching on his left and turned to see Jesse carrying the well-camouflaged necessity in one hand. She offered it to him by the handles of the plastic bag.

"Here you go, here's the change. Hope your friend appreciates your help. Though I doubt he'll appreciate it as much as his wife will..." Jesse smiled at Vin and was gratified when he smiled back at her.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it." But he hesitated taking the bag out of her hand.

"I charge extra for deliveries." Jesse said and he took it from her, looking like he wished he could hold it arm's length away all the way to his car.

"How much extra?" he asked and Jesse laughed.

"Brave man - it won't bite you, nobody can tell what it is through the bag, and it poses no threat to your manhood. However if you don't get it to your friend's wife pretty soon, I'll lay odds that she'll be threatening parts of you that you didn't even know you had."

Something then, in the way her eyes sparked as she laughed, or how the slight breeze caught her hair, or just the fact that she was talking to him, touched Vin and he didn't want to leave not knowing if he'd ever see her again.

"You shop here a lot?" he asked.

"Usually late Thursdays, after all the other customers have gone home...can't stand crowds, y'know? Get in my way, walk too slow, take up all the aisle, can't decide if they should buy the $2.95 piece of beef, or the $3.05 piece. I came here today out of plain necessity. Good thing too I guess, or you'd still be in there counting boxes. Unwilling, I'm guessing, to concede defeat."

"Naah, I just woulda stood there till Thursday night and you'da rescued me then..." He smiled, and didn't want to leave but knew he had to. These - these - _these_ - weren't just a necessity, but an emergency for Mary who was so sick that Chris claimed he couldn't leave her alone to go to the store himself. _Claimed_ being the important word. "Well, maybe I'll see you some Thursday night? I ain't all that keen on crowds neither. Sounds like a good time to shop."

"Well, I hope I do see you." Jesse told him. "This has been fun."

Then they said goodbye, Vin went to his truck and when he turned back he spotted Jesse half a parking lot away from him, getting into her own truck. He smiled to himself again, thinking ahead to Thursday night.

The end.


	6. Awakening

Tonight promised to be the first snowfall of the season. Thanksgiving eve. The air was cold enough, and gray shouldered clouds filled the sky. Jesse always waited to see the first snowflakes, she'd done that since she was a child, camping with her parents. A chilly cabin, a cup of hot tea, the faint, dull echo of voices in a nearly empty room, watching pinprick snowflakes gently cover the brown and fragile fallen leaves lying on the forest floor.

Her first Thanksgiving as a married woman. Funny how strange that seemed sometimes. Sometimes she found herself thinking "...when I get married..." planning some inconsequential detail of an event that'd already passed. She stood at the window of the bedroom, and stared out at landscape. No snowflakes to be seen yet in the glowing moonlight.

She shivered in her flannel nightgown and wool socks, and turned to get back into bed. Her first Thanksgiving as a married woman, and they were spending the night in a guest room at a friend's house. Jesse slid under the covers and in half sleep Vin automatically reached to pull her close in his arms. She turned under the blankets to face him, and rested with her head tucked under his chin, one arm wrapped around his waist.

Asleep, or on the edges, Vin nestled down so that his cheek rested on the top of her head, and one hand lightly brushed up and down her arm. His body was warm under the blankets, and Jesse pulled herself as close as she could get. He slept in heavy wool and cotton thermals, and she slid her fingers under the shirt to feel the heat of his skin on her hand. Funny how a man who lived to be outdoors liked to be warm when he slept. Jesse was inclined to have the window open a crack, even on the most frigid night; Vin liked the room warm, as long as the air didn't get stale. They usually compromised by having the window shut and the thermostat turned almost all the way down. Cold air made it easier for Jesse to sleep - and made Vin more likely to snuggle, asleep or not.

Jesse lightly brushed her fingers across his back, and listened to his soft heartbeat. Vin responded by tightening his arms around her and breathing a soft sigh that tingled past her ear. Jesse would've preferred to spend a night like this at their own house, but Chris had invited the 'gang' over for Thanksgiving weekend and she'd known Vin long enough to know he liked being with his friends at holidays. For all the quiet and calm he liked having around him the rest of the time, Vin reveled in the noise and bustle that a houseful of the Seven brought to every holiday and birthday.

Birthdays. The fellas hadn't spent a holiday at their house yet, Jesse was planning that as a surprise for Vin's next birthday. Three times now, in the three years she'd known Vin, she'd seen him watch the oncoming day like a condemned man, making plans for himself, or for the two of them, as though he didn't know - maybe didn't believe - that his friends would never let the day pass without a celebration. Then they'd get him to the party on some pretext, and he'd end the day tired and happy, warmed inside and out by their company and thoughtfulness. So, with her own family a thousand miles away, Jesse didn't begrudge Vin his family, his brothers.

Vin shifted in his sleep and Jesse turned with him, ending up across his chest with his arms still secure around her. She slid her hand off his back and brushed it up and down his side, and let it rest on his hip. She was nowhere near tired, too busy lying in the arms of her darlin', and enjoying every second of it, to want to close her eyes.

The room was dark except for the moonbeam that reached through the window and reflected in the mirror over the old fashioned dresser. A nice room, "Vin's Room" Mary called it the first time she'd shown Jesse to it, and it warmed her now as then that Vin had friend who made a place for him in his home. Left to himself, left on his own, Vin was a wanderer. But he stayed with Chris and the others. Four years now he'd stayed in one place, in one job, he'd even gone and got married, much to the dismay and heartbreak of nearly every woman who knew him, married or not. And Jesse was the lucky woman, laying right now in his arms, letting her hand roam where it would on his skin, turning her face up to gently kiss the corner of his mouth, before settling back comfortably across him.

Vin stirred a little at the touch, and mumbled something she couldn't understand. He gave her a gentle squeezing hug and breathed another contented sigh. There were pieces of his life that he hadn't shared with her, she knew. Oh, he'd offered the facts and details little by little, but never the pain that she knew must've accompanied them. Except for one or two comments tossed off bitterly when he'd been tired or frustrated about something, all of Vin's stories about his past were told at his own expense, bent so that they seemed funny stories.

The path Vin took through life was never the easiest. Shy as a child, isolated in school with very few friends, and a family life he couldn't trust, he chose work over education at a young age. But all that got him was dissatisfaction at a string of jobs that required nothing from his intelligence and kept him on the fringes of poverty for too many years. So he wasted himself on drinking too much and fighting too often. Still isolated. Still not trusting.

Larabee had been his friend a whole lot of years, going on seven now, wasn't it? Drinking buddies at first, Chris had gone sober first, then gradually coaxed Vin to come along with him, keeping constant contact with him as he moved from job to job, from one disintegrating dump of an apartment to another. He helped Vin get his GED, get a better job, move into a decent neighborhood. He introduced him to his other friends, the rest of the Seven, guided him out of the fear that had been his protection his whole life.

Four years now Vin was a different person - bright, outgoing , happy with himself and his life. Jesse wished she could've seen the transformation, the before and after. But maybe it was better that she couldn't. Guess it didn't matter though. They were here now, together. If laying in this man's arms throughout the night wasn't all that mattered in the world, it came a real close second.

Vin stirred again, turning more onto his side toward Jesse, mindful even in sleep to keep her gently secure against him. Her hand found it's way against his skin again, soft and warm under her touch, and her body thrilled at the nearness of him. His thermal shirt was open at his neck and she kissed her way down the buttons, one by one, treasuring the feel of him against her lips. Her touch brought Vin out of his sleep, but barely. He kissed the top of her head. "Missed you today at work." he mumbled. "Sorry I went to sleep so early...time is it?"

"Middle of the night babe. Still got a long time to sleep." She kissed her way further down his chest, through the softness of his shirt, and her hands started their own exploration.

"Tired?" Vin asked.

"Not especially..."

He pulled her close to himself again and kissed her. Outside the window, in the moonlight, snow began to fall.

The end.


	7. 1st Christmas

_Seven Years Ago _

December 24th. Early afternoon found the little neighborhood bar empty except for three men - two patrons and the bartender. The first man, Chris Larabee, was older, in his mid thirties. He muttered to himself over his whiskey, too agitated to get drunk, only getting more rancorous.

"Who the hell she think she is? Tellin' me what to do. Shoulda never got married to her. Y'get married, first thing they start tellin' y'what to do..."

Annoyed by his lack of audience, the man turned to the other customer who sat a few barstools away from him. He had one whiskey in front of him that wasn't going anywhere fast. He looked young, early twenties, and he had on a cheap suit. Maybe it was his birthday or something and he'd come to celebrate.

"Hey...what's up with you? You come from a funeral or somethin'?" Chris thought he was being funny, but when the young man turned to look at him, eyes red and hopeless, Chris saw that he'd been exactly right.

"Aw hell, I'm sorry..." He tossed back his drink. "Shouldn't y'be at a wake or somethin'? They gonna miss you if y'don't show up?" He had to pay close attention to hear the soft answer.

"Ain't nobody else. Was just me n'him." and the young man took one short sip of his whiskey.

"Your Dad?" Chris wondered why he was interested. The young man shook his head.

"Grandpa. Always just me n'him." His breath caught then and he wiped his eyes. "Weren't even me at the end..." Chris waited for an explanation, but none came.

"What d'you mean?"

"Couldn't afford no stupid funeral. Not even a stinkin' coffin." Anger grew in the young man. "Had to - had to _abandon_ his body. Lady at the County Hospital told me, if they said nobody claimed the body, the government'd bury him out in Potters Field 'n it wouldn't cost me no money." He started to shake then, and more tears rolled down his face. "Shit, it cost me everything _but_ money to do that..." Chris had no handkerchief on him, so he pushed a stack of paper napkins forward.

"What's your name?"

"Why?" Clearly not a trusting soul.

"My name's Chris Larabee."

The young man's expression obviously registered "_so_?" but he answered anyway. "I'm Vin Tanner." He used a napkin to dry his eyes. "Didn't mean to go on." he said. "Reckon you got reasons a'your own, bein' here." and he took one more careful sip of his drink.

"You wanna know why I'm here?" Chris asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "Because my in-laws are comin' over and my wife told me I had to take out the garbage and put on clean clothes..." It sounded stupid to him now. He shook his head.

"You're lucky." Vin Tanner said.

"Lucky 'cause I got a wife who likes to boss me around?"

"Lucky 'cause you got more'n one person in your life." The whole whiskey went down then, and Vin stood up, digging in his pockets to pay. He came up with a handful of change and most of that pennies.

"I got it." Chris said. Vin shook his head and counted his money. "_I've got it_." Chris insisted, and told the bartender. "I'm paying for him."

"...thanks..." Vin scooped his money up and started for the door. No hat, no coat, no gloves, and it had to be seventeen degrees out.

"Hey - you got no coat?" Chris called after him.

"No...ain't that cold out..." Pinprick snowflakes fell outside the window. "Don't live that far away..."

"I'll drive you." Chris put his money on the bar and pulled his coat off the stool next to him. He didn't put it on, not when this kid had nothing between him and the frigid air. He draped it over his arm. "Car's just out front." Vin eyed him suspiciously. But it was cold outside and he didn't have a coat.

"...'preciate it...just live a couple blocks away."

M7*M7*M7

Two blocks in one direction from this bar and the neighborhoods were middle class and well kept up. Two blocks in the other direction, and the neighborhoods were full of abandoned houses and overgrown yards. That was the direction Vin pointed out and Chris drove that way. The house they stopped in front of looked abandoned, but Vin said he lived in the apartment tacked onto the back.

"...'preciate the ride." he said again, opening the door to get out. "Hope you have a nice Christmas..." then he was gone, down the side yard, past the faded "Santa stop here!" sign that listed dangerously over the narrowly shoveled sidewalk, and into the little apartment. Chris almost wished him a nice Christmas too, but judging from Vin's circumstances and surroundings, it seemed cruel to offer him only words.

As he turned his car around in the driveway, a tiny Christmas tree suddenly came to life in the apartment window, and beyond, in the flickering glare of a bad fluorescent overhead light, Chris saw Vin stop in the middle of the room and cover his face with his hands. 'First Christmas alone...' Chris thought and he wished he could do something else for the kid. He checked his watch - still early. He decided to buy some flowers to apologize to Mary, and he wanted to buy a few other things as well.

M7*M7*M7

The next morning, Christmas morning, Vin got dressed in his warmest clothes and headed out early to noon Mass. St. Patrick's Church was only a mile away, a little less actually, but it was so cold out, he wanted to get there in time to get a seat near a heat register.

He unplugged the little tree in the window till he came home again, hefted the plastic bag of canned goods for the Parish soup kitchen and headed out the door - and nearly tripped over the large cardboard box wedged in his doorway. His name was printed large and distinct on the side. He looked around but didn't see anyone, so he pulled the box into the apartment.

It took a kitchen knife to cut through all the tape to get the box open. Inside it, Vin found a brand new heavy wool jacket, and a knit hat, scarf, and gloves. He couldn't imagine who it was from, till he opened the card sticking out of the jacket pocket.

"You have a nice Christmas too."

M7*M7*M7

_Four Years Ago_

Christmas night. Dinner was over, darkness had fallen. Chris tapped on Vin's bedroom door before pushing it open slightly. "Vin?" he asked quietly. His friend was in bed, laying on his side on top of the covers. On the bedside table stood the little Christmas tree, its tiny flashing bulbs sending dots of color over the corner of the room. "Sleeping?"

"No." Vin answered without turning his head.

So Chris went in and sat on the edge of the bed. This was being a hard Christmas for Vin, for a lot of reasons. First Christmas sober was a big one. "Missed you downstairs. Got a card game going."

"Ezra cheats."

"Yes he does..." Chris agreed, and offered: "You can play on his side..."

"Just tired." Vin told him.

"Un hunh."

Vin knew Chris wasn't buying it and he had to tell the truth. "God Chris, I want a drink so bad. If somebody told me they'd give me a drink for killin' you, you wouldn't stand a chance. Even if I had to use my bare hands."

"I know Vin. I've been there." Chris reached out to put a hand on Vin's shoulder. "You know you don't have to go through this alone, anytime you feel like this you gotta come talk to me." Vin didn't answer and Chris decided to dig. "What brought it on anyway? You been doin' fine all day."

Vin hesitated before saying. "The biscuits." This puzzled Chris.

"Well, I know Mary's biscuits aren't the best in the world, but I didn't think -"

"I stole them." Vin said abruptly. Which confused Chris even more.

"From who?"

"From _you_." He gave Chris a look, aggravated that he wasn't following, and leaned over to pull his knapsack off the floor. "They was on the plate in the kitchen..." he sat up and unbuckled the canvas bag to show Chris the biscuits inside. "I took 'em."

"Vin, that's not stealing. You know, anything you want, you don't have to ask. Anytime you're hungry..."

"Ain't for here." Vin told him. "Was for home."

This worried Chris. "Don't you have food at home?"

"I - just ain't got to the store lately..." Vin said. Chris wasn't making a move about the biscuits, so he buckled the bag up again and set it over the edge of the bed.

"Do you have enough money?" Chris asked. It took Vin a while to answer.

"It's been a hard month is all. That accident weren't my fault, still gotta pay the deductible, rent went up, gotta pay my health insurance...picked a fine season Larabee to get me to lay off drinking." But Chris didn't answer. Vin felt his eyes on him, waiting for the whole truth.

"Got laid off." he finally admitted.

"_When_?" Chris' voice was clipped.

Lord, this was going to be bad. "Last month?" Vin barely squeaked out.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Chris demanded. "How long have you been without money - and food?"

"I got unemployment." Vin insisted. "I'm lookin' for another job. It's just takin' awhile. I was holdin' my own till the truck got blasted...honest I'm lookin' for another job. It's just hard right now."

Hard, Chris knew, for an intelligent man with barely an eighth grade education. "Let me get you in at work." he said, for the millionth time.

"Doin' what?"

"Anything, maintenance, whatever it takes to get you in. Even maintenance would be a government job. You get health insurance, a pension, everything. You get your GED Vin, you can move up. It's a start."

"Don't know why you even bother." Vin said. "Why y'bother keepin' track a'me, keepin' me fed, wantin' me sober. Ain't like I got anything to offer back."

"We're friends." Chris answered patiently. A lot of emotions went through a man trying to dry out and stay that way. Self-pity was definitely one of them. "There's nothing else I want from you but being friends."

"But _why_?"

"I don't know." Chris finally admitted. "It's not pity, mighta been at first, but not for long. You've got a world of hurt inside of you that you try so hard to deal with on your own. The few times you do let something slip, you get this look on you like you've just committed the most terrible crime. I know you're intelligent, and you care about other people, more than you do about yourself. You put up with me, times when not a lot of other people could. You're a good man Vin, and I consider myself blessed to have you as a friend."

It was the truth, and it was overwhelmingly embarrassing for Vin to hear it. He felt his face flush hot and red, and he put his head down to keep Chris from seeing. But Chris saw. He put his hand on Vin's shoulder again.

"Tomorrow we can work on getting your life all straightened out, all right? Tonight you come back downstairs and have some hot chocolate and Jingle cookies, and play some cards with me and the guys, okay?"

Slowly Vin nodded and slid himself off the bed. "Okay."

M7*M7*M7

_One year ago_

Christmas morning, Vin stood at the top of an aluminum extension ladder, furiously trying to staple icicle lights along his roof line. "Stupid things, don't hang right." he muttered to himself. "Directions don't say anything about them coming out all bunched up like this...stupid lights." He twisted, untangled, stapled, then untangled some more. "Should've just got the old-fashioned kind, would've been done by now..." and stapled some more.

"Hey!" a voice called up to him. "You need some help up there?"

Vin looked down and grinned when he saw Chris. In his black jacket and jeans, he stood out starkly against the landscape of snow that'd fallen overnight. "Chris! What're you doing here so early?" Vin abandoned his task and climbed down the ladder.

"Just came by to see if you need any help." Chris gazed up at the sorry string of lights. "Reckon it's a good thing I did..."

"Ahh, I never done - did - this before." Vin said. "They don't hang right."

"Once you get some current running through 'em, they'll warm up and hang right...you finish up there. I'll start shoveling your walk."

"You don't have to that." Vin said. Chris shrugged. "Just a Christmas present I don't have to wrap...go on, when we're done, you can buy me a hot chocolate." It didn't take Vin long to finish then. Chris helped him put the ladder away and they both shoveled the sidewalk. When they were done, they went into the small house through the front door. The lit Christmas tree sparkled in a front window. It was a huge tree and took up more space than the little front room could afford. But it was Vin and Jesse's first Christmas married and in their own house, and Chris couldn't fault them any for a little extravagance.

They hung their jackets on the coat tree in the front hall and Vin headed for the kitchen for the hot chocolate. Chris offered to help, but Vin shook his head. "Might not be safe in the kitchen right now." he said. "This'll be the first crowd Jesse's had to cook for...she don't take distractions well..." He was back in a few minutes carrying two mugs of Swiss Miss and a plate of homemade cookies on a tray.

"Nice tree." Chris said, as they sat on the couch and overstuffed chair. Vin's eyes shone.

"First real tree I ever had. Always just had that little one." He pointed into the next room to the tiny artificial tree that now stood as centerpiece on the dining room table. Chris knew it well. "Had that one with Grandpa. Always wanted a real one, and Jesse always _had_ a real one, so it weren't - wasn't - so we actually agreed on something..."

"You're having a good Christmas then." Chris asked.

"Oh yeah." Vin said and grinned. "Here, I got something for you." He went to the scatter of unopened presents under the tree and pulled one out. "I'se gonna give it to you later, after dinner, but..." he offered it to Chris.

"Well, thanks..." Chris set his hot chocolate on the coffee table and undid the bright paper. A book fell into his hands.

"That's that poet you said you liked..." Vin told Chris, even before he had a chance to read the cover. "Couldn't find him nowhere - anywhere - in a store around here. Got that one on Ebay. Hope y'ain't - don't - got -" Vin gave up trying to remember correct grammar. "Hope you like it." he said.

"I do like it." Chris said as he looked the book over. "And no, I don't have this one already...thanks." Vin reddened at the warmth in Chris' voice, and he ducked his head.

"You done so much for me - don't know where I'd be if y'weren't my friend." Vin took a swallow of his hot chocolate. "No, I do know. I'd be out in Potters Field, next to Grandpa. Froze to death on the street somewhere, or dead of alcohol poisoning. Or just give up and died 'cause I had nothin' else..." He tried to meet Chris' eyes but couldn't. "Thought it was the end of the line for me, when Grandpa died. Never imagined - sitting in that bar that day, wishing I could get drunk on one shot of whiskey - - I owe you so much Chris. I can never repay you." By the end, his voice was so soft, Chris had to listen close to hear him.

"Vin - seeing you settled and happy, and having a good life, is all that matters to me. You've been there for me, lots of times. There's no such thing as 'paying back' between friends." Then Vin did meet his eyes, and something twinkled there. "Allright, but paying Buck back for gluing that harmonica in my tail pipe is something different entirely." and Chris was glad when Vin laughed. He finished his hot chocolate and took a few cookies for the road. "I should be heading back, as long as you got everything under control here..." Vin walked him to the front door and handed him his jacket. "See you at four." Chris said.

"Okay." Vin answered. "Thanks for stopping by." He watched out the storm door as Chris got into his truck and drove away. "Thanks for everything..."

The End


	8. 1st Lunch

Jesse Chronicles: Lunch

Author: Mel

Rating: G

Spoilers: None

Archive: sure

Note: you might want to read "Polite" first to understand what's going on here. The URL is: .

Other notes: ~ Kensington High School is my mother's old alma mater. She and

2 of her brothers were in the first graduating class in 1938. She

was sixteen. Recently it's been the scene of too much violence

and not a lot of learning

~ PS 68 is where I went to Kindergarten

~ Ford's Restaurant does not exist, at least not around these parts

~ D'Youville College is where my oldest sister Louise went.

(Valedictorian, 1969)

~ The army quote is from my Dad

Feedback: 

The two men sat across the restaurant table from each other, picking at their napkins or rearranging their sweating water glasses, quiet and awkward in nervousness.

"So – what's your wife's name?" Dr. Carberry asked. The question came out suddenly, as though it had only just occurred to him.

"Jesse." Vin answered just as quickly, sounding glad to have something to say. "Her name's Jessica, but she goes by Jesse. Or I call her Jess, or 'Reb' on account of her maiden name is Rebadow."

Then having exhausted that topic, the conversation collapsed again.

It was Friday afternoon. Vin was glad he ended up meeting Dr. Carberry on a Friday; if things didn't go well, he'd have the whole weekend to recover. He'd spent so much time staring at the list of phone numbers and email addresses Dr. Carberry had given him, that for a week, it felt like he'd hardly done any work.

"You gonna call?" Chris finally asked him that Monday.

"I don't know."

"Then Vin -," Chris leaned closer, "put it away until you're ready. Don't keep raking yourself over it." He spoke softly, not chiding Vin for shirking his work, but truly concerned for his state of mind.

"Yeah." And Vin slipped the piece of paper into his wallet. Until late yesterday afternoon when he'd gone into Chris' empty office, shut the door, and dialed the phone.

*+*

"My wife's name was Melanie." Dr. Carberry said. "I called her 'Melly', like in 'Gone With The Wind'." Then he took a gulp of water from his glass.

"Oh."

"I don't suppose you read it."

"Well, no. I think I saw the movie. Maybe. I ain't – don't – didn't – get a taste for reading 'til the past few years or so. I reckon there's a lot to catch up on."

"Where'd you go to school?"

"Uh – PS 68." It sounded more like a question than a response.

"What about high school?"

"Kensington."

Dr. Carberry's eyebrows went up in surprise. Vin guessed he'd heard about Kensington's reputation.

"Oh."

"It wasn't that bad." Vin tried to explain. "And I was hardly ever there any -." He caught his slip too late. " – way."

"Oh." Again. "Why?"

"A lotta reasons." Implying maybe they were his reasons alone.

"I hated school," Dr. Carberry said immediately. "Until I found what I loved. And that took me until my second year of college."

"How come? How come you hated it?"

"I never really fit in with the other kids. I got along better with the teachers; I could talk to them easier than I could the other kids. It can be a hard ride when you got no friends."

"Yeah it can." Vin's agreement came on a breath of sorrow.

The waiter brought their food then and both men were relieved to have something to do beside talk.

*+*

"Good afternoon, Sloan Free Clinic, how can I help you?"

"Yeah, yes. Could I speak with Dr. Carberry please?" There, Vin thought. His voice sounded perfectly normal, despite how bad he was shaking inside. The hard part was over. He knew you never got to speak with a doctor when you called them. Dr. Carberry would be with a patient, or busy, or doing something else and Vin could leave a message or not and then he wouldn't have to worry about –

"One moment."

"What?"

And almost instantly another phone picked up.

"Hello?" It was Dr. Carberry and Vin couldn't get any breath to answer. "Hellooo?" The doctor tried again.

"Hi, hello. Dr. Carberry? This – this is Vin. Tanner. From, you know, the other day." What an idiot he thought, 'you remember me, don't you? The son you never knew you had?'

"*Vin.*" Dr. Carberry sounded pleased. Vin thought he sounded pleased. He did, didn't he? "Well – Vin – I'm glad you – you called."

"Well I thought – I just – you said – and I – well -."

"Yeah. No. No, I mean – yeah. I really hoped you would call. I – when you left – I just thought – maybe – you would. If you wanted. You know. I just thought – when you left -."

"Yeah. Me too. That I should call. I thought I should." How much babbling could one man really have inside? "I wasn't – I didn't want – I wasn't sure -." Never, ever had Vin stammered so bad in his life. "Lunch?" he just finally spat out to be done with it. "Could you – would you – wanna do lunch? Sometime? Maybe we could just – do lunch? Sometime?"

"Yeah. Great. Lunch would be great. I would love to. When? Anywhere is good for me. Anywhere you'd like to meet. You're downtown right? I'm right near the expressway. I can be anywhere in ten minutes. Or fifteen. Anywhere. Anywhere you want to meet."

"Uh. Oh. Uh." Vin searched his mind for someplace that was nice but cheap. McDonald's probably wouldn't do it.

"Have you ever been to Ford's?" The doctor offered. "On Porter, just off the expressway? Near D'Youville, near the Peace Bridge. That's a really nice place. One of the doctors I work with, his son owns it. It's really pretty good. It's easy to get to."

"Yeah. Fine. Sure. That sounds – sure. Would – is – what about tomorrow? Friday?" Duh – the man would know the day after Thursday was Friday.

"Sure. Yeah, that'd be great. Any time? Noon?"  
"Noon? Tomorrow?" Tomorrow being Friday of course. "Yeah." Vin had finally been able to answer. "I'll see you then."

*+*

"I never really liked French onion soup until I tried it here."

The restaurant was small, an 'L' shaped room with the tables a little too close together. Vin and Dr. Carberry had a corner of the room to themselves, down near the kitchen and the soda pop dispenser.

"I'm not one much for soup. It just doesn't seem much like food if you don't got to chew it." Vin said. Dr. Carberry had the soup and fettuccine. Vin had a cheeseburger and fries.

"My Dad always has soup with dinner." Dr. Carberry said. "I never ate it much either when I was young, but Dad said that when he was being discharged from the army, the doctor told him soup was the healthiest food you could eat. So he always made sure to eat it."

"How old was he when he died?"

"Dad? He's still alive. Eighty three and can't be stopped. Mom too, they live just a couple of blocks away from me."

"Oh." The information stunned Vin, for a few reasons. "My folks'r all dead."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

Vin shrugged, and picked up his cheeseburger, and then set it down again.

"Did you tell them about me?"

"Not yet. Not until I knew how you felt about all of this."

"Oh." Vin picked the cheeseburger up again and began to eat it.

"Have you told your wife?" Dr. Carberry asked.

"I had to. I mean – I wanted to. But she woulda known something was wrong. Not wrong – I don't mean this is wrong. I mean – I mean –."

"It's OK, Vin. If my Melly was alive, it'd be the same way."

"Yeah."

And they ate their lunch for awhile and didn't talk. The waiter refilled their water glasses, and asked if they needed anything, and then they were alone again.

"Is there something I should be calling you?" Vin asked.

"I suppose 'Dad' would be way outta the question."

"Yeah." But maybe that came out too strong. "Leastways now. Anyway. I don't know. I don't know how I *do* feel about this."

"My name's Henry. Most people call me Hank. Mom calls me 'Henry Cornelius' sometimes. Usually when I swear in front of her."

"My middle name is Henry."

"Oh." This obviously surprised the doctor. "Oh. Your Mom named you that."

"Yeah. Can I just call you Dr. Carberry?"

"Sure."

*+*

"Nervous about today?" Chris asked. He and Vin were in the break room. Chris was getting coffee. Vin was taking extra-strength Excedrin.

"What was your first clue?"

"When you came in dressed looking like you had to go to court - as the defendant."

"I got a lot to – overcome." Vin said. It wasn't the exact word he wanted but it would do. "He's a doctor. I've got a GED and a handful of college courses to my name. I don't want him to think I'm not –." But then no word presented itself.

"Not what?" Chris asked. Vin didn't answer. "By my count, he's the one who's got all the explaining to do. He's the one who needs your approval, not the other way around."

*+*

"Did your Mom ever say anything about me?"

"She said you were from Texas. She said you were smart."

"Texas yeah. I was born there. Most of the family is from these parts. Smart I don't know about though."

"But you're a doctor." Vin said. Dr. Carberry shrugged.

"Being a doctor don't make you smart. And it isn't being smart that makes you a doctor either. It's a lot of hard work, and a lot of determination. I saw a lot of smart fellas wash out of medical school, and I know a lot of stupid doctors. No, I tend to be more determined than smart."

"Oh."

"All the smarts you got, you had to get from your mother. She was as smart as she was pretty."

Vin wanted to ask, 'did you love her?' but he didn't ask it. "Grandpa said she was always the smartest kid in her class."

"It wouldn't surprise me. She was way smarter than me."

"You got more folks? Vin asked. He didn't want to talk about his mother anymore.

"I have three brothers. Three sisters in law, about a dozen nieces and nephews. A few aunts and uncles and a lot of cousins."

"Oh." What Vin really wanted to say was 'wow'. "After Grandpa died, I was it. I mean, I suppose there's cousins 'r somebody out there. Way out there. But I wouldn't know 'em."

"You had nobody?" Dr. Carberry asked.

"No. No family."

"That's not right – well, I mean, people should have family."

"Yeah." The waiter cleared their plates and they ordered coffee but no dessert. "You know, I ain't – not – I'm not all that smart." Vin said.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because. I didn't finish high school. I didn't get my GED 'til about five years ago. I started taking classes to get a college degree, but it's slow going. I'm just not – I don't think I'm all that smart."

"I think you are. I think you're very smart. What you're talking about are just circumstances in your life. And the first year of college is always the hardest. You are smart Vin. I can tell."

"Oh, well thanks." That didn't seem like enough of a response, and Vin wanted to ask *how* he could tell, but he only rearranged the bowl of sugar packets on the table, and Dr. Carberry refolded his napkin and then refolded it again.

The waiter brought their coffee and left the check. They both reached for their wallets.

"I've got it." Vin said.

"Let me get it."

"I did the inviting."

"Yeah but – I just think it's the least I can do, considering."

Vin folded his wallet but didn't put it away.

"You wanted to meet me." He said. He didn't look at Dr. Carberry. "You wanted to know me. At your office, I just thought you were being polite. But when I got a good look at that list of numbers and email you gave me, I didn't know what to think. It ain't – isn't – hasn't – been all that often folks make a point of making sure I can get in touch with them. Outside a'work I mean. 'Til recent, it ain't been all that common for me to feel like somebody folks would care about." He swallowed hard and took the money out of his wallet to pay the bill.

"I'm not saying it might not be hard going, us getting to know each other. And maybe I'd rather it be that way anyway, 'cause if it was easy I might not trust it. What you didn't do all the years you didn't know about me doesn't count, 'cause you *didn't* know. What counts is what you did as soon as you did know. You gave me an in into your life. If I wanted it."

"Do you want it?" Dr. Carberry asked.

Vin looked at him and for the first time in what felt like weeks, he smiled. "I'm willing to do a little recon work I guess. This place open Sundays? We could do dinner maybe? I'll bring Jess, I'd like you to meet her. You could – if you want – you know – bring some of your family? Not the whole tribe I mean." Vin smiled again. "But just – if you wanted. I reckon I'd like to meet some of them too."

*+*

The phone rang in Chris' office.

"Larabee."

"Chris – it's me. I'm gonna take the rest of the afternoon off, OK?"

"How did it go? Was it that bad?"

"No, not bad. Just – it's a lot to think on. I just – I'm just gonna go out to the cemetery and visit with my Mom for awhile. I haven't been out there in a long time."

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know. I think so, but I don't know. I'll let you know on Monday."

"All right. You call me if you need anything."

"I will. Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"No – nothing. Just – thanks. I mean for letting me have the rest of the day off." That last bit was added quickly, too quickly. "No, I mean – I maybe haven't had blood family all this time, but I had you."

"Vin -."

"I gotta go. I'm driving and on the cell phone. I gotta go. I'll see you Monday."

"All right. See you then."

The end.


	9. Precious Things

The baby died.

The rest of the gang had headed for lunch, and Chris was about to join them when his cell phone rang. He had to fish for it in his briefcase, but finally managed to find it.

"Hello?"

"Chris?" A tired, hesitant voice inquired.

"Vin? Hey, we've been waiting for word! You left a pretty short message on my machine this morning, just that you were taking Jesse to the hospital. Stork circling? He coming in for a landing yet?" Chris started to walk out of the office, hoping to catch the others before they got too far.

"Umm..."

"Still circling, hunh? The first ones always take the longest...how's Jesse holding up?"

"She's...umm..." It was then that Chris caught the tone.

"She's all right isn't she?" he stopped dead in the middle of the quiet office. "Vin?" A long pause followed, and Chris felt a chill run through him.

_"The baby died." _

"Oh God Vin - no." The words dropped on Chris like a bomb. "What happened?"

"She - umm...Jesse stopped feeling the baby move yesterday, so they sent her for an ultrasound. They said the baby was dead." Vin was breathing so hard and fast, he was almost panting. "So - so - I had to bring Jess in this morning so's they could induce her...said, the doctor said the c-c-c-ord wrapped around her neck. "

"It was a girl..." Chris said. He knew how much Vin had wanted a daughter.

"Was gonna name her Jesse, just like her Mom..." That was too much for Vin though, and Chris heard him try to contain a sob.

"Vin, where are you?"

"At the hospital." Vin sounded annoyed, as though Chris were suggesting he might be anywhere else.

"Where at the hospital?" Chris tried again and was met with another pause. He could picture Vin looking around himself, trying to figure out where he was.

"L-l-lobby, I guess. Near the lobby. They're gettin' Jess all set up in her room...I just had to walk..."

"Vin, you want me to come over there?" Chris took long steps back into his office to grab his keys and write four stark words on a scrap of paper.

One more pause.

"Yeah..." and it broke Chris' heart to hear the anguish in his friend's voice.

. "I'm on my way. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. I'll meet you in the lobby."

"Okay...hurry..."

As he ran out the door, Chris jammed his note in the nearest copy holder hanging off a computer monitor.

_Childrens Hospital. Baby died._

M7*M7*M7

Vin wasn't in the lobby. Chris finally found him on the maternity floor, sitting on the wide ledge of window that overlooked the downtown streets. He had his arms wrapped around his knees and his forehead pressed against the glass. Chris approached him slowly.

"Vin?"

At first, Vin didn't say anything as he turned toward Chris. His eyes were red and his face was pale, but for now he was calm. "You know Chris, when I woke up yesterday morning, I owned the whole world." His voice trailed lifelessly out of him.

"You still gotta pretty nice piece of the world waiting for you in her room."

"Naah..." Vin shook his head. "I mean, I gotta wait for 'em t'tell me I can go in..." He glanced around the floor, busy with a dozen people, each of them filled with good news. "They was gonna put her in a semi private room. With a woman just had twins. How many kinds of stupid is that?" He glanced around again and lowered his voice. "I got her in a private room. Better anyway, 'cause they said they'll let us see...the little one...soon's Jesse can handle it."

Will you be able to handle it? Chris wondered. "I've heard that they do that now...one of the guys in forensics, they lost their baby last year...same thing..."

"They have any more kids?" Vin asked, hopefully. So hopefully, Chris hated to answer him.

"Not yet."

"Oh..." Vin turned back to the window, defeat evident in the set of his shoulders.

"Mr. Tanner?" A nurse approached the two men. "You can go in now, we've got your wife all set..."

"Okay...thanks..." He wiped his eyes and slid off the windowsill. He didn't seem steady.

"Vin - I'll find the visitor's lounge and wait there." Chris said. He didn't want to intrude on the first moments Vin and Jesse would have. But Vin stopped and turned to grab Chris' sleeve in his hand. He tried to say something and nothing came out, but he held onto that crumple of material.

"I can't go in there by myself..." he finally managed to say, and Chris patted the hand that twisted his sleeve.

"All right Vin, I'll go with you."

Still, they were a few lengths down the hallway before Vin let go of him.

M7*M7*M7

Chris walked into the room behind Vin, so intent on what he saw on the bed, that he bumped into Vin when the other man stopped dead. Jesse was sitting up in bed, with her legs under the covers. In her arms she held a tiny bundle, wrapped in pastel flannel. By her face, she'd been crying hard, but she managed a smile when her eyes lit on Chris.

"Hey Larabee..." Her voice wasn't strong.

"Hey Reb." he answered. Vin wasn't moving and Chris didn't want to push him along. So he was left at an awkward distance to have a conversation with Jesse. "Vin told me - I'm so sorry." Jesse nodded and looked down at the still form in her arms.

"Would you like to see her?"

Not in this lifetime, Chris thought, but smiled and nodded, and finally had to put his hands on Vin's shoulders to propel him forward. Vin moved stiffly at first, then got the idea and moved ahead on his own. Chris stopped walking then and let Vin approach the bed.

He put his hand out uncertainly, as though he wanted to touch the baby. At the last moment though, it seemed like he'd pull away, but Jesse lifted their daughter into her father's arms. Vin froze, unable to move, staring at what he held, unwilling to hold the baby any closer than arm's length. Jesse looked over his head to Chris, asking for help with her eyes.

Chris came up to Vin. "Can I see her?" he asked gently. Vin looked at him like maybe he was crazy, but Chris went on like he didn't notice. He untucked the blanket from around her arms and legs and lightly brushed her with his index finger. "Ten fingers and ten toes." he said. "And beautiful, just like her Mom..." He smiled at Jesse. Vin started to bring his hand up to touch her, but he didn't have the baby held secure enough and he put his hand back.

"Why don't you sit down on the bed Vin." Chris suggested, and steadied Vin and his precious charge as he got himself comfortable on the edge of the bed. He turned so that Jesse could still see the baby. When he felt safe, Vin finally reached out a trembling hand and stroked the baby's dark hair.

"It's soft." he said, in some wonderment. "And she is real pretty..."

After a few moments, when it looked like everything was squared away, Chris decided to make an exit. "I'll go call the others." he said. "Let 'em know." Vin nodded, not taking his eyes off his daughter. Jesse reached out to squeeze Chris' hand.

"Thanks Larabee."

"You bet...if you want, I can start making arrangements for you."

Jesse said that would be wonderful, but Vin looked up, puzzled. "Arrangements for what?"

"For the funeral." Chris told him, as gently as he could.

"Oh..." Vin nodded again. "Okay."

Chris lightly touched the baby one more time and turned to leave the room. An old fear suddenly came to life in Vin and he called out: "Chris - not Potter's Field. Promise?" Chris walked the few steps back and put a hand on Vin's shoulder.

"I'd be proud if you'd let Little Jess rest beside my Adam." he said. His voice was hoarse, and his eyes filled with tears. Vin stared at him, disbelieving and grateful. It was hard for him to nod over the lump in his throat, but he nodded. He had no voice to offer his thanks, and Chris had no voice to say anything more. So he put one arm around Vin and gave him a hug, and for a brief moment, Vin responded genuinely, leaning into it.

Then Chris left the room, intending to use the lobby phone to call the office and update the others. Instead, he went out to his truck and pulled a picture of his first born son out of his wallet and stared at it while tears rolled down his face.

The End


	10. Worth It

Chris was on his way to the kitchen when the phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hi Chris. It's Vin…"

"Hey – how're you doing?" It briefly crossed Larabee's mind that something must be wrong; this was the first time in the six or seven months they'd known each other that Vin had ever telephoned him.

"I'm okay. Just wondering – umm…I was gonna go out to dinner and a movie? Wondered maybe if you might want to go?" He sounded hesitant and awkward. "Nothing special y'know. Just McDonald's and the Dollar Theatre down on Hertel…?"

"Tonight? Oh – I'm sorry. I can't. I've got a stack of work to go through before tomorrow morning. Maybe we could do something this weekend?"

"Oh sure. Yeah. That's okay. I know it was just – spur of the moment kinda thing. Last minute." He spoke fast and sounded disappointed.

"Well, I'll talk to you before this weekend then, and we'll work something out. How's that?"

"That's fine. That's okay." Then there was silence for a moment. "Well, I'll see you then. Bye."

Vin hung up the phone and sat in his old saggy sofa to put his head in his hands. Stupid, stupid, stupid. God he was so stupid. Why'd he ever call? Chris was just gonna hate him now, think he was stupid, tongue-tied and annoying. Shoulda just never called and just left everything the way it was. Stupid. Just leave it that they saw each other when they saw each other and not try to change that. Sure, Chris had given him his phone number, but that didn't mean he ever meant Vin to call him. Stupid to think they were any kind of friends. They were just – people who knew each other. God. Larabee had so many friends – he didn't need anymore. Didn't want anymore. He sounded annoyed on the phone. Probably got him in the middle of dinner. Stupid stupid stupid. Vin hated himself for being so stupid.

M7*M7*M7

Late that afternoon, Chris flashed his ID to the uniform at the barroom door and was let inside. Past the mild destruction of one splintered bar stool and a couple of smashed beer glasses, he saw Vin sitting on the floor against the far wall, alone. He had a bloody towel pressed against his head over his right eye. Another uniform and two bar patrons stood nearby, talking. Chris approached them and showed his ID again. "Any consideration you could show him would be greatly appreciated." He said, gesturing to Vin.

"Not me." The policeman said, and pointed to one of the patrons. "It's Detective Magaris here your friend had the disagreement with."

"Detective?" Chris turned to him. "Some way we can make this disappear?" He saw the detective studying his ID, then studying him.

"Don't see why not." The other man shrugged. "Hurt himself worse than he did any other real damage. Not worth the paperwork."

"I appreciate it." Chris put away the ID and went to crouch beside Vin. "Something you'd like to tell me?" he asked.

"Head hurts." Vin slurred without looking up.

"No kidding. You mess with a cop, you get your head laid open." He tugged Vin's hand and the towel full of ice away to get a look at the laceration and bruise forming on Vin's head.

"Didn't know he was a cop." Vin said. "Wouldn't a'messed with him. My great-uncle Jim was a cop…I know better'n mess with cops…"

"Think you can get yourself out to my car and I'll take you home?" Chris asked, and Vin nodded. "Okay." He stood and addressed the bartender. "You let me know later if we need to settle anything up?"

"Don't worry about it…" Mike waved him off. "Had worse on a quiet night…"

"Thanks…come on." Chris helped Vin to his feet none too gently. "Let's get you outta here." Vin wavered a bit, then got his feet moving in the right direction. Chris didn't help him, but kept an eye on him until he was safely stowed in the front seat of his car. "You should go to a hospital." He told Vin, but Tanner shook his head, wincing at the sensation it caused in his brain.

"Just take me home?"

Chris agreed but didn't like it. He pulled to a stop in front of the house where Vin had a garage apartment. Still holding the towel of ice against his head, Vin didn't even notice. "You should go to a hospital." Chris said again.

"Got no insurance." Vin finally admitted. He looked up and saw where they were, but still made no move to get out. "How'd you know what happened?"

"Mike called me. The bartender?" Chris explained to Vin's puzzled look.

"Oh – sorry. Know y'had that work. Didn't ask him to call you." He folded and refolded the towel, trying to hide the blood.

"Let me take you to the County Medical Center." Chris said. "Even if you don't have insurance, they'll take care of you."

"_No they don't."_ Vin spat out. "They don't take care a'people got no insurance. You sit there while they take care a'people got insurance. And you sit there while they take care a'people got Medicaid and SSI and people can pay for themselves. You sit there and sit there. You sit there and get sicker and you sit there until you _die_ and they still don't take care a'you."

Then he slammed the car door open and then closed again and stormed off toward the stairs that led to his apartment over the garage. Chris watched him go, and pulled out his cell phone to make a call. When that was done, he followed Vin and easily caught up with him as he stopped to shake the cobwebs out of his brain again before starting up the stairs.

"Vin?" and he saw Tanner flinch, but he didn't turn around. "Your Grandpa died sitting in the hospital waiting room?" he asked gently.

"No, not exactly. We came in, he was just dizzy and couldn't move his arm. Sat there for hours, couldn't get nobody would take a look at him. That day they mostly got drug addicts and drunk drivers. He just kept getting worse. We was there nearly nine hours. Time they got to us, Grandpa was unconscious and never woke up again. Put him on life supports and such. Watched him waste away…"

"They shouldn't have neglected him that way." Chris said. "That was wrong, that was criminal." Vin only shrugged. "Come on Vin – Nathan's brother-in-law is a doctor, he'll have a look at you."

Vin turned then and Chris could see him weighing the possibility. "He'll let me pay him a little at a time?" he asked.

"Yeah he will." Chris sort of lied. He knew the doctor wouldn't be charging Vin at all, but this wasn't the time to bring that up. "Come on."

M7*M7*M7

It was a short drive down the expressway and through the business section of a nice neighborhood. Chris led Vin into the Medical Arts building and down a hallway into an office.

"Hi." Chris greeted the receptionist. "Vin Tanner to see Dr. Imala. We're a last minute appointment."

The receptionist took his name and handed over some paperwork to fill out and said she'd call Vin's name when it was his turn. They took a seat in the empty waiting room and Chris watched Vin arduously fill out his forms. His handwriting was hesitant and awkward but he got through. Chris inwardly winced when Vin got to a section that asked the health or age of death of his family members. No one had lived past sixty five and most hadn't made it to fifty. "Father" he left blank, and under "cause of death" for Mother, he wrote "gunshot".

Vin either didn't notice that Chris was reading his form, or he didn't care. He kept at it and had just finished when the nurse called him. He got up to follow her back. Chris stayed in his chair and pondered everything he'd read on the Vin's medical history.

M7*M7*M7

Not quite an hour later, Vin reappeared, following Dr. Imala back to the waiting room. He had a wide white square of adhesive over his right eye.

"Chris Larabee! How are you?" Chris stood up and they shook hands. The doctor was tall and looked very much like his sister Rain.

"I'm good. How's Vin?"

"Not too much damage. No concussion. It bled freely but not to worry. A couple of stitches were all that were needed. I told Vin I want to see him back in a week, or sooner if he gets blurry or double vision, or headaches. Otherwise, everything looks fine." Chris thanked him, and Vin thanked him, and they headed back to the parking lot. Vin got in the passenger seat, and Chris got behind the wheel, but he didn't start the car.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

"Tell you what?"

"That it's your birthday."

Vin looked plainly surprised, and plainly turned over in his mind how Chris might know that. It didn't take too long for it to hit him. Reading over his paperwork over his shoulder. He didn't answer.

"That's why you were going to dinner and movie, isn't it? Today's your birthday."

"_So_?"

"So why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you a'gone with me, if I told you?" Vin asked.

"Of course."

"That's why I didn't tell you. Just wanted you to go 'cause you wanted to go. Not 'cause you felt like you had to or anything."

"So instead you picked a fight with an off-duty police detective." Chris said. Vin didn't say anything for a few long moments.

"Would you just take me home?" he asked quietly. "I'm sorry you had t'come out anyway, when you got work to do. I didn't mean for that to happen."

"You should've told me." But Chris started the car and drove back to Vin's neighborhood.

They were stopped at a red light, in view of Vin's block when he asked Chris:

"You know what it's like to know nobody else alive on the earth knows it's your birthday? What it's like to sit and watch your Grandpa dying on your birthday 'cause neither of you is worth somebody else's time? I just wanted you to go, to go. Just 'cause you thought I'se worth it."

"Of course you're worth it Vin." The light changed and Chris drove through the intersection. He didn't want to stop at Vin's place because he was afraid Vin would just get out and run away from him. So, he didn't stop. He kept driving. "Yeah, if I'd known it was your birthday, I would've gone with. Not because I thought I had to, but because you ARE worth it, worth making the time to celebrate…Vin?" when he got no answer.

"_What_?" he sounded startled. "Where are y'goin'? I live back there." As though Chris didn't know.

"Taking you to my place. You can get cleaned up there, have some dinner -."

"Don't want dinner."

" – and we can make some plans to go out this weekend."

"Just take me home." Vin was beginning to sound desperate.

"Why? So you can sit alone in your apartment, surrounded by everything bad that's ever happened to you?"

"No – so I can remember the last time my Grandpa ever wished me Happy Birthday."

That just about did Chris in. He had to swallow several times before he could speak again.

"Come home with me Vin. Mary's holding dinner, and she'll be glad to see you."

"What about all the work you gotta do?"

"It can wait. I'd rather celebrate your birthday."

Vin tried – he looked and listened and tried his hardest to find any trace of deceit or sarcasm or pity in Chris' words. But he didn't find any.

"You mean it."

"Of course I mean it…" Chris sounded surprised. "What d'you say? Am I worth spending your birthday with?" and Vin stared at him a minute, completely taken off guard by the question.

"Yeah." He couldn't figure out what was going on. But just this once, he wasn't going to question it. "You're worth it."

"Okay then. Let's go have some dinner."

They were halfway to Chris' house, when they got stopped at another red light. "Hey…" Chris turned to Vin. "Happy Birthday."

The End


	11. Treat

The door opened and six pairs of eyes turned to the sodden, dripping figure in the doorway.

"_Not one word."_ Vin warned. His face, his hair, his clothes – there wasn't one single centimeter on him that wasn't covered.

"But – what - ?" But JD's question was cut short by the lethal glare Vin shot him.

"Bad day?" Chris asked anyway, and only laughed at the dagger eyes sent his way.

"You think it's so funny Larabee, grab me some clothes outta my locker so's I can take a shower…downright scary walking through the halls. All them ladies looking at me like I was some kinda –."

"_Treat_?" Buck offered and Vin looked at him like he was one step away from murder.

"C'mon Vin." Still laughing, Chris stepped between the two men before things got really ugly. "I'll help you…"

After they left the office, the remaining men broke out into honest laughter.

"Now that is a sight that must've set more than one woman's heart atwitter today." Josiah managed to say. "Our shy, quiet tracker – covered head to toe in chocolate!!"

The End.


	12. St Valentine's Day

St. Valentine's Day was a terrible day to bury your child.

The temperature lingered unsteadily around twenty degrees, and the wind-chill made it feel like eight. Jesse slipped on the steps leaving the house and twisted her ankle. Vin wanted to help her up, but she sat there, in the slush and ice and ruined pantyhose, crying. So Vin sat in the ice and the slush beside her, and took her into his arms to let her cry against him. The next-door neighbors started to come over, concerned, but he waved them off. He tried to do it nicely, the neighbors were good people who knew about the baby, and they nodded and raised a hand in understanding.

When this crying time ended, Vin helped Jesse up, and they went back into the house to change their clothes and try again.

St. Valentine's Day was a terrible day to bury your child.

They didn't talk much between themselves. Jesse said her ankle was fine, though she limped, and Vin didn't argue. She put on a longer skirt that hid the scrape up her shin, washed her face, and put her makeup on again. Vin changed his dress pants and put a heavier shirt on under his suit jacket; he didn't feel cold, but he must be because he was shivering. He called Chris, out of earshot of Jesse, and said they'd be a little late to the cemetery, but they'd be there.

Then they tried again.

Jesse'd changed to flat shoes, and watched her step, and made it to the car. Vin opened the door for her, and she settled herself into the front seat with a sigh. He waited a few seconds before closing the door, but she didn't say anything else, or even look at him, so he shut the door and walked around to the driver's side.

For a brief flash, he thought he saw a car seat in the back as he opened his own door. That was the reason they bought a car anyway, when before they both drove trucks. They'd wanted a car safe enough to protect their baby, and settled on a used Volvo station wagon.

Now here they were, no baby and a car too big for their needs.

Vin caught himself staring into the backseat, and hurried to get in, but Jesse hadn't noticed. She was fiddling with her seatbelt, trying to get the shoulder harness comfortably set across herself. Finally, she let it slide back into its housing, and when Vin gave her a questioning glance, she just said it hurt.

The cemetery was off the busy expressway, down a block, and through a tall ironwork gate. The cemetery road closest to the gravesite held only familiar cars - family and friends - and the huge hearse that bore the tiny tiny coffin to the cemetery.

Jesse's limp was worse as they walked side by side, but not hand in hand, from the car across the road. Vin wanted to stop her, take her into his arms and hold on for dear life, but she seemed so distant, and he didn't want to do anything to shatter her calm.

Or his own.

St. Valentine's Day was a terrible day to bury your child.

Stiff and silent, concealing her limp once they were in sight of the others, Jesse walked across the grass to the where a tiny mound of soil waited near an oversized bier, next to a tiny grave. A dozen and a half or more people crowded the little area. At first it seemed she might stop to talk with some of their friends or family, but after the briefest hesitation, she placed herself away from the others and stood staring across the grounds.

Vin wanted to stop a minute, talk with Chris, thank the pallbearers and honor guard. His six friends and Jesse's two brothers would escort the little coffin from the hearse to the grave. But despite how aloof Jesse was acting, Vin knew he had to be with her. He walked through his friends and in-laws, and took his place next to her.

Lord, he wanted to hold her hand, put his arm around her, feel and give some warmth and tenderness. But Jesse kept her hands shoved into the pockets of her blazer, and her eyes fixed straight ahead.

So Vin just stood beside her.

The others kept their distance, Jesse's family probably knowing from experience that her expression and demeanor meant stay away. Vin's friends, he knew, were watching him for any sign or gesture that they could approach him. But as long as Jesse seemed so brittle, Vin would respect her unspoken need for space.

He let his eyes wander over the area. One row up from Little Jesse's grave, Vin saw Adam's headstone. Adam Larabee, the dates, and a little carved lamb. His breath caught hard in his chest and he wondered how Chris could stand it. He looked over and saw that Chris was staring too at his son's grave, saw that Buck stood so close to Chris their shoulders touched.

God, Vin wanted that.

He vaguely remembered his mother's funeral. A smaller gathering of people, and afterward his Grandpa had taken him for ice cream. His Grandpa's funeral – hell, there hadn't been a funeral. Not even a graveside service like this. Just sign a couple of papers and never see him again. Just empty drives to Potter's Field. No markers, only scattered tattered bouquets of flowers pockmarking the ground here and there. No funeral Mass, with a coffin and pallbearers and prayers and friends. Just a regular Mass, said in his Grandpa's memory, a month or so after he died.

Vin'd been alone after his Grandpa died, alone at the cemetery, alone at the Mass. Alone until… He looked over at Chris again. Alone until some fool wouldn't _let_ him alone.

He still had the jacket Chris'd left on his doorstep that next morning after they met, still had the hat and scarf and gloves. More than that though, he still had that feeling inside as when first realized who'd left the box and why. His first Christmas alone made bearable by a simple act of kindness and comfort.

And God, Vin wanted that now.

Chris saw Vin looking at him, and raised his eyebrows in question. But Vin shook his head and indicated Jesse beside him, and Chris nodded and didn't come over.

Finally, after what seemed years but was only minutes, standing in the bitter wind and stinging snowflakes, the funeral home personnel opened the back of the hearse, and the pallbearers moved into place to escort their precious charge. Everyone else came to gather around the grave and the priest.

Just then Jesse turned and rushed away to the car, not looking back. After his initial shock, Vin hurried after her, ignoring the half-formed questions and concerned looks of the others. She was already in the passenger seat when he got there, so Vin got into the driver's seat and took out his keys. He wondered where Jesse might want to go.

He didn't ask her, and she didn't say anything, but she pulled up the hem of her long skirt and Vin saw her ankle – shockingly swollen and four shades of purple. She looked up at him then and only said that she didn't want to go where anyone would talk about the baby.

The emergency room closest to home had an empty waiting room. Jesse, in her blunt way, told the admitting nurse that she'd suffered a stillbirth in the past week and would appreciate it if no one talked about it. At first Vin was embarrassed, but then he figured - what the hell difference did it make? His baby girl was dead and being buried without them and if Jesse pissed off one nurse or a whole hospital, what the hell difference did it make?

But the nurse nodded. She was older, mid-fifties maybe, with eyes that had no doubt seen worse attitude than a grieving mother. Not smiling, just a firm nod, she told Jesse and Vin that she'd make sure.

When they took Jesse back for x-rays, Vin risked a call on his cell phone to Chris. In a waiting room decorated with pink hearts and inane cupid cut-outs, Vin told Chris what'd happened and could he just let people know not to try to get in touch with them and – and –

And when Vin couldn't finish the question, Chris made sure he knew that the funeral went fine and everyone understood and that Vin could call him anytime. For absolutely anything. Vin stammered out an answer that was half thank you and half I know and hung up abruptly before he cried on the phone.

St. Valentine's Day was a terrible day to bury your child.

A few hours in an empty Emergency Room had Jesse x-rayed and casted and tottering out to the waiting Volvo on a hairline fracture and stupid crutches. By now it was past lunch and she said she just wanted to go home when Vin asked. He held the car door for her, and shut it for her, and they drove home in silence.

Vin automatically offered his hand to help Jesse get out of the car, and she took it. It was the first time they'd touched each other since he helped her up that morning out of the slush at the bottom of the front steps. But then she took her hand back to maneuver the crutches, and Vin shadowed her up the steps and opened the front door for her. She said she was going upstairs to change and maybe take a nap. She left the crutches at the foot of the stairs and limped up on her cast. Vin asked her if she wanted tea or something to eat and she only shook her head before going into the upstairs bathroom and shutting the door.

The house was quiet then, just the sound of water running in the sink. Vin sat on the couch. Just sat. His eyes felt heavy and swollen, and it didn't seem like he was getting enough air for each breath he took. The water shut off upstairs and he heard Jesse thump down the open hallway to their bedroom.

And he sat there. In a house that had never seemed so empty.

He didn't feel hungry, he didn't feel tired, he didn't feel anything.

After awhile, he thought he should check on Jesse, and he trudged up the stairs as drained as if his whole body was in plaster. Jesse had changed into a flannel nightgown, and was asleep in their bed. It was barely mid-afternoon, but Vin changed his suit and tie for his thermals and wool socks and got in under the covers next to her. He didn't touch her, tried not to wake her, just wanted to be close to her.

He was just drifting off to sleep himself when he felt Jesse stir, and in her half sleep she moved close to Vin and curled herself against his chest. He put his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. After a minute Jesse started to cry. After another minute, so did Vin.

St. Valentine's Day was a terrible day to bury your child.

The End


	13. Underpass

_A/N: I stole the idea and the title for this story from the Garnet Rogers song "Underpass" _

Chris expected the office to be empty when he walked in at lunchtime, Friday afternoon. He only intended to grab some files off his desk and head out again. He found Vin there though, behind his own desk, on the phone. So intent on his conversation he didn't seem to notice Larabee.

"Yes Ma'am. I'll be there. Is there anything else I need? No, I'll take care of that. All right then, two thirty. Yes Ma'am, I'll be there. Thank you." He set the phone back in its cradle with a sigh, and rubbed his eyes.

"Tough case?" Chris asked.

"Hey! Back a couple days early, aren't you?" Vin said. He sounded happy to see Chris there. "How was Aspen?" He leaned back in his chair and put a foot up on his desk.

"Expensive. I'm just stopping in to get the Tucker file. Wanna be up to speed before I talk with the Judge on Monday. How were things here while I was away?"

"Quiet. Got some leads on those tainted cigarettes been coming across the river. Ezra had to go undercover in a Bingo parlor couple nights last week. He claimed it was '_beneath'_ him, but I think he had himself a real good time anyway." He stood up and grabbed his coffee cup. "C'mon t'the break room, tell me all about your trip."

They were almost out of the big office into the adjoining break room when Josiah came through the door.

"Chris – good to see you back…" he acknowledged him, but his attention was focused on Tanner. "Vin – I just heard. I'm sorry."

Vin lifted his head just slightly, "_Yeah_," and Chris was immediately concerned.

"What?"

"Nothing." Vin told him, and headed for the break room again. "C'mon, did y'see any famous people out there? How was it to breathe up in the mountains?" But the door opened again, and Buck and JD entered the office, and the discussion.

"Vin – you're still here." Buck sounded surprised and relieved.

Again, just the tip of his head, up once, "Yeah," Offering nothing but agreement.

"Josiah said he heard…" JD started.

"_I know_." Vin said, a little harshly. Chris was beginning to feel invisible, and entirely out of the loop.

"What's going on?" Eyes on Vin, he asked the question of anyone who would answer him.

"Nothing." But that was getting Vin nowhere. "I gotta go to Archives…" he said abruptly and headed out of the office, setting his coffee cup on his desk and nearly running into Ezra and Nathan who were on their way in as he was on his way out.

"Vin –"

"Mr. Tanner –"

But Vin brushed off their attempts at concern with a final, exasperated "_Yeah, I know_…" and was gone down the hallway.

With everyone assembled but the one man he wanted to talk to, Chris turned to his friends and teammates. "What the hell is going on?" he now demanded from all of them at once. They spent a moment looking at each other, none wanting to be the one to tell it. Finally, Josiah spoke.

"A week ago Monday, Vin was on his way home late, going down Rt. 33. He found a boy, a teenager, been beaten most to death. He got him to the Medical Center, and gave a statement to the police, but…" Josiah looked around at the other faces in the room before continuing. "I've been keeping in contact with the Head Nurse there. The boy died last night. Never regained consciousness."

"Vin's been taking it real hard." JD offered. "Getting angry at the police for not doing anything about it." The six of them still stood in the middle of the quiet office.

"Nothing they _could_ do…" Buck said, sounding as though they'd had this conversation before. "He was homeless." He told Chris. "Been on the street awhile, from the looks of him."

"But it's murder now." JD persisted.

"Murder of a homeless boy doesn't really rate." Nathan said.

"As execrable as the circumstances of his death are…" Ezra said. "I must agree with Mr. Jackson. Though the officer in charge of the investigation promised to do all that he could, even he allowed that the chances of apprehending the perpetrator of this enormity are slim to none." The office became even quieter.

"Still – it's murder." JD tried one more time, and then gave up. "Vin's been taking it real hard." Chris shook his head and started to walk to the door.

"Don't guess he was really headed to Archives…" he said.

M7*M7*M7

Main Street vibrated with lunchtime traffic. Vin came out the front door of the Federal Building and didn't know which direction to turn. Suddenly his jacket was too hot, his tie was too tight, and he felt a frightening sense of disorientation. There was too much noise, too many people on all sides, and all he wanted was to be off somewhere quiet and private.

He checked his watch. He was meeting with Mrs. Ramsdell at two thirty - still two hours away. Vin didn't think he could claim to be at Archives for two hours, but he didn't want to go back to the office either. Around the next block, he heard the bells at the cathedral chime the half hour, and he turned his steps that way.

Keeping his head down as he walked, Vin heard the familiar footsteps fall in and keep pace beside him. Chris'd say 'what's wrong?'. Vin'd tell him 'nothing.' That would be it. Even though Vin had a pretty good idea that by now Chris knew what was going on, he also knew that Chris would respect his wishes not to talk about it. So they walked in silence for a block, until they came in sight of the tall steps of the cathedral.

"Going inside?" Chris asked. Vin considered it.

"Naah, don't think so. Need to be outside." And he hesitated, uncertain where to go now. Chris decided for him.

"Well, we need to take a seat and talk about this, come on."

The words and firm tone startled Vin. Where was the '_what's wrong? nothing. okay_.' exchange he'd been expecting? Still, he followed Chris and sat at a diagonal from him, Chris on a landing in the steps, Vin on the wide stone balustrade.

"They told you?" he asked, more to confirm than to accuse.

"Yeah." Chris' eyes took Vin in, up and down.

"Guess I just took it personal."

"I know." Chris said, still firmly. The truth was, he wouldn't have needed to see Vin, or even be told, to know that he'd take the boy's death hard. "I've been watching you Vin, and you've been handling Little Jess's death OK so far, but I knew sooner or later it was going to fall down on you."

"Doesn't have nothing – anything – to do with losing the baby…" But Vin didn't sound so sure.

"It's been six months Vin..."

"_I miss her_." Vin said, as though Chris was disputing it, then said again wistfully, "I miss her. But that ain't it." He tugged off his tie and undid the top few buttons of his white cotton dress shirt. Chris knew Vin wouldn't offer unless asked - so he asked.

"Tell me what happened."

What did he see in Vin's eyes? Fear? Pain? Guilt? Or just overwhelming sadness?

"…was driving home last Monday. Jesse was gonna be out late with her sister so I stayed to finish up some paperwork and had dinner at Ford's on my way home. Was driving down the 33 and saw somebody lying by the side of the road, at the underpass there, where the expressway splits off to go to Main street. You know where I mean?" and he waited for Chris' nod of understanding before going on.

"Woulda thought it was a pile of rags laying there, but just as I went past he tried to push himself up. Looked like anyway. He was unconscious when I got to him though. Couldn't a'been older than thirteen or fourteen." He added quietly: "_Not in years anyway_… Called 911, waited with him till they came, praying the whole time none a'them damn fool drivers'd plow into us on that curve. Followed the ambulance to the hospital, took him to County Medical Center."

It seemed that Vin had more details to offer, but he took a deep breath and his voice cracked. "He _died,_ Chris. He hung on a week and a half, nearly two weeks. Every day the hospital said there was no change, but I thought maybe – y'know? Maybe?" Again, he waited for Chris to nod that he understood.

"Nobody stopped. Musta been a hundred cars drove by and nobody stopped." His confusion and disappointment sounded in his voice. "If I hadn't drove by there, how long would he a'been there, broken and dying till somebody stopped? Why didn't anybody stop?" his voice had dropped to whispered despair. "How come nobody cared enough to do anything?"

No, this had precious little to do with losing Little Jess, Chris now realized. This went back a whole lot further.

"The police figure whoever beat him left him there at the underpass, thinking some speeding car'd come by and hit him, make it look like an accident. But he musta – the boy musta had just enough left to pull himself off to the side, trying to save himself. He had to take care of himself and nobody to look out for him. He was all alone and he woulda died there all alone if I hadn't drove by and stopped." Vin fiddled with the tie in his hand. "Hell, he died all alone anyway last night at the hospital. Tried to help him, ended up doing nothing anyway."

"You helped him Vin." Chris insisted. "He didn't die there by the side of the expressway, just a pile of rags to anyone else going by. You got him to the hospital where they cleaned him up and put him in a bed. They gave him fluids and painkillers and he wasn't alone. He had nurses and doctors and aides – and he had quite a lot of people praying for him, didn't he?"

"Yeah…" Vin almost whispered. "Doctors said he had severe head trauma, lotta broken bones and internal injuries. Said he'd been molested too. Maybe before he got beaten, maybe after. Maybe for as long as he was on the street…coulda been me, Chris."

"You weren't homeless." Chris said, and was sorry at the strong note of surprise in his voice. He didn't know, maybe Vin _had_ been homeless.

"Naah, I wasn't. Not if you count it as always having a house to go to…times though I wished I _was_ homeless…" He'd never told that to Chris. Never told it to anybody.

"Got kinda hard living with your Grandpa after awhile, I suppose." Chris ventured. Vin rolled his eyes but then shook his head.

"He started getting forgetful when I was in Seventh Grade. He retired when I was in Eighth Grade, and by the time I was in Ninth Grade he was really bad. Come home from school and find out he'd been wandering the neighborhood, talking outta his head. He'd have his good times too though, when he was who he was. Y'know? Worried him terrible what was happening to him. Didn't have much of a pension and no good health insurance, went through most of the money real fast trying to find a doctor could help him. Couldn't find one though. There'd be nights when he was okay, and we'd be watching TV, and he'd want me to sit next to him and hold his hand 'cause it scared him what was happening. Then the next morning he'd wake up and ask who I was and where was my Mom and sometimes he'd yell at me and say I was breaking into his house and trying to steal stuff and threaten to call the cops. There was times there I wanted to run away. Didn't care if I was homeless or if I starved or froze to death. There was times I just wanted to be miles away from there."

"But you always went back." Chris said.

"I always went back." Vin softly echoed.

"Didn't you have any help?"

"Yeah, some. Some of the neighbors were real nice, Mr. & Mrs. Samora would keep an eye on him for me, when I was at school or work. If he wandered around they'd corral him at their house, or get him back to ours and watch him till I got home."

"But what about the VA Hospital, or some government agency?"

"_NO_!" Vin said, so vehemently Chris wondered what nerve he'd touched. "Grandpa said that once you let somebody have a say in your life, they do anything they can to make trouble for you." He must've seen the doubt in Chris' eyes and he said again. "_Grandpa said so_." Chris knew there'd be no arguing with that.

"Hard way to live." He said instead.

"Harder on Grandpa." Vin said in his defense.

"So finding that boy…" Chris let the thought hang, wanting Vin to finish it.

"It coulda been me Chris. If just one night I didn't go home..." He shook his head again. "I went to work when I was real young, soon's I got my working papers. Not just delivering newspapers like the other kids either. Lotta people out there'll overlook little things like child labor laws. Ain't – not – it's not like I didn't get all kinds of offers soon's some a'those people figured how desperate I was. Coulda just as easy been me ended up at that underpass fifteen, sixteen years ago." He finally folded up his tie and shoved it in his jacket pocket. A hesitant smile played on the corner of his mouth.

"Hell, coulda been me _ten_ years ago, 'cept some damn determined fool wouldn't give till he saw me turned into a decent, upright, tax-paying citizen. That was it, wasn't it Larabee?" The full smile appeared. "Wasn't that I might starve or freeze to death, it was that you didn't want your hard-earned tax dollars being spent by some bleeding liberal heart trying to save me from myself."

"My secret is exposed…" Chris deadpanned. "I'm a closet Republican." But the look on his face belied the levity of his words. "I am sorry about that boy, Vin. That you had to go through that." He leaned back on his elbows, wanting to physically give Vin the space that his next words might encroach upon emotionally. "You coulda called, let me know what was going on." But he was thinking 'should have' – Vin _should have_ called him. Vin shrugged, but wouldn't meet Chris' eyes.

"You were on vacation. They said I should call you. Everybody said I should call you. Even Jesse. Even Da - the – my – Dr. Carberry…" Vin blew out a breath at stumbling over that. "I told them I didn't want to, and asked 'em not to do it either. You and Mary and Billy were on vacation. Didn't want to interrupt that."

Behind them, the massive wooden front doors to the cathedral opened, and noontime mass-goers streamed out, and passed them on the stone steps. Chris watched them disperse to cars or jobs or home. "Have lunch yet?" he asked, as he turned his attention back to Vin.

"Naah, I was gonna leave early. Me n' Jess are gonna meet at the hospital, talk to Mrs. Ramsdell there about claiming the – claiming the –" He couldn't say 'body'. "Y'know – give him a decent burial at least. A stone with some words on it. Something. Something better'n he had anyway."

"That's a lot of money." Chris said, and Vin's emotions flared up again.

"Don't matter how much it costs." He snapped. "Me n' Jess agreed it's what we want to do – money don't matter when –" and Chris held his hands up in mock surrender.

"I'm on your side, remember?" he tried to sound lighthearted. Vin stared at him a moment, as though he was seeing someone or something other than his friend.

"I know…sorry…" he rubbed his eyes and pulled his tie out of his pocket. "Oughtta be heading back I expect. Want t'get my work done 'fore I leave early…" but he made no move to stand up. "Coulda been me." He said again. "Coulda been me real easy. _Was_ me for awhile, on my own, taking care a'Grandpa on my own. Taking whatever work I could get, instead a'going to school. Scrounging pop cans and bottles for the deposits, going through the abandoned houses on our street to steal any copper or brass I could get, to sell to the scrap yard down the way. Some days surviving on nickels and neighbor's charity.

"It _was_ me Chris, and it all just came back on me so fast and so hard I couldn't hardly deal with it. I kept feeling like if he survived, it would make up for what I went through. When I called the hospital this morning, and they said he was gone…" his voice wavered. "I almost couldn't bear it. If I'da stayed in the office and heard the others telling me they were sorry and that I did the best I could – I wouldn't have been able to bear that."

Now Chris sat forward, with his elbows on his knees. "Can you bear me telling you that I'd like to help you bury him? If you'll let me." But Vin didn't answer. He hung his head. "Life is full of all kinds of strange coincidences Vin. Think of all the things that had to happen that we met when we did, the day you buried your grandfather and I had a fight with Mary. Or how you and Jesse met." Chris wasn't one hundred percent sure where he was going with this, but he pushed on. "You found that boy for a reason. You have friends for a reason. Don't separate the two."

"I can't ask you to help."

"You _aren't_ asking me to help. I'm asking you if you'll _let_ me help. Let us help. The others are going to want in on this too, you know."

"I know." Vin breathed out, and Chris could practically see the weight being lifted off of Tanner's shoulders. "He'll need a name."

"Well, I've always been fond of the name Christopher…" Chris said.

"I've occasionally thought 'Vlad the Impaler' would be a better name for you…" Vin answered, and laughed at the glare he got. "Doctor – my – the – Dad said he'd be part of it too…I just feel so bad. Like I got there too late, or didn't try hard enough. There's more of 'em out there Chris and I feel guilty for having a home and a family and friends, and enough money to do nearly anything I want to do."

"You do what you can Vin. Donate food or money or clothes to the homeless shelter – and I know you do that already. You can't harm yourself trying to help someone else." Vin nodded. "C'mon, I'll buy you some lunch. I talked with the boss, he gave you the afternoon off." Chris stood up and Vin followed.

"You'd really let him be called 'Christopher'?" Vin asked. "Yes, I would. I'd be honored." And Vin nodded again. "You're a good man Vin. You're doing a good thing."

Vin walked a few steps down from Chris, then turned to look up at him. "Trying to give back what I got." He said. "Reckon I learned from the best."

The End


	14. Time Change

What was it with this time change thing anyway? Taking an hour of sleep away from a man. Bad enough trying to get up in time for noon Mass on Sunday, now he was expected to get up an hour early for work. Like anybody wanted to be to work early. And after a night of constantly interrupted sleep, it was downright unpleasant to be up and moving before the birds.

Nudging his truck onto the expressway, Vin suddenly couldn't remember if he'd even kissed Jesse goodbye. He must have though. Right? Jess wouldn't let him leave the house without straightening his tie, checking him for a clean handkerchief, kissing him goodbye. He'd been late more than once on account of that kiss.

He felt his shirtfront. Yep, he was wearing his tie. Pants pocket. Clean handkerchief. He must've kissed her. And if not, he'd just kiss her twice once he got home.

Twenty minutes on the expressway brought Vin to the parking garage of the Federal Building. The parking attendant smiled her usual greeting as he flashed his ID, but he noticed that she gave him a surprised double take as he drove in. Maybe he forgot to shave? No, a quick touch of his face revealed he'd shaved this morning. Oh well, maybe she'd been looking at something else.

Usually, Vin took the stairs up to their office; today he took the elevator. Stupid time change. It was too early to walk up eight flights of stairs. He stood at the back of the elevator car and leaned his head back against the wall, counting the beeps to know when to get off. Briefcase…did he have his briefcase? Yep, there in his hand. He shook it, yep, lunch rattled around inside of it. Lord, just let him get to the office and put a big cup of coffee in his hand.

Oh, he was late; everybody was already at their desks when he pushed the office door open. One by one, they looked up to greet Vin. One by one, their greetings were cut short as they each gave him a puzzled look.

Well, even if he did have chocolate milk this morning, at least one of them was always polite enough in the past to point out if he still had some in the corner of his mouth, and not just stared at him. Oh well. Stupid time change was getting to everybody. He dropped his briefcase at his desk and didn't even stop on his way to the break room and coffee. Chris was in there and – like everyone else – even his generally brief greeting was shortened.

"Hey -." Followed by the puzzled look.

"_What_?" Vin finally demanded. "People been looking at me like I got two heads."

"This?" Chris said, tapping his temple.

"I am _not_ crazy."

"Glasses?" Larabee tried again. Vin's eyes crossed as he took a look down his nose. He had on his wire rimmed glasses.

"So? Been wearing 'em awhile." He moved past Chris to get his caffeine fix.

"Uh, no. You haven't. Not in the office anyway."

"What? Oh - - usually wear my contacts. Never told you, hunh?" He poured a lot of sugar and milk into his mug. "Thought I did." He sank wearily into a chair at the table.

"Baby keeping you up is he?" Chris asked, as he took a sip out of his own mug. Vin's answer was to drop his head into his arms on the table.

"Every – half – hour." He enunciated into the Formica. "Either he was crying, or Jess was worrying, or I was checking to see if he was still breathing. Every half hour, one of us was fussing. All night long. On top of having an hour less to sleep. And forget about doing anything -" He sat up again. "…_personal_…you know. Nothin' like having your baby asleep in the same room to make you think pure thoughts…" He took a healthy swallow of coffee and Chris grinned at him.

"Wouldn't change it for the world though, would you?" and Vin shook his head.

"_Not for the world_." He agreed with some wonder. "After losing Little Jess last year, and being so scared the whole time this time, and with his due date being just a month after hers was last year, he can keep me awake from now until he goes to college. I wouldn't change it for the world."

Chris thumped his shoulder and headed out of the breakroom. Vin dropped his head back onto the table. "

Just gimme that hour of sleep back…stupid time change."

The End


End file.
